Those Who Dream
by Winds of Water
Summary: And Alphonse thought that he knew everything there was about souls after spending time as a suit of armor. Scar/Al.
1. Chapter 1

Time to make good on a promise to give some attention to my favorite Al pairing. Several of you already know that Scar/Al is a secret desire of mine. Not so secret now, huh?

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

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Chapter One

The bottle of sleeping pills contained one less than it had the night before. One too many, one too few. It had been a last ditch effort of a desperate attempt to get even _one_ night of constant sleep. Undisturbed by the waking effects of certain dreams.

And yet, Alphonse Elric still tossed and turned in his prison of a bed as the covers threatened a strangulation only avoided by a jerking movement in the other direction.

_The vision lurched and swayed, though not as much as it had in the past. Yet it brought him down that dusty road where the children of Ishbal worked or played. The stark contrasts in this place were more than a reminder of this country's past. It was a blatant showcase. The adults embodying a worldly air the children did not. The original homes of decades ago worn down and their walls littered with dried mud plugs that sealed off where shrapnel or bullets had made itself known. The new homes were simple, but elegant without the polka dot walls. _

_A flicker of something wooden near the lower right hand corner of his eyesight nearest the ground always moved too fast to be identified. And the lurching progress down the road continued until it reached the outdoor bazaar where a now familiar man always had a keg tapped somewhere. _

_A blink._

_And then he was sitting on the edge of a marble fountain run dry. Chipped mug of ale half gone. Most of the remainder splattering to the ground only to soon dry up as his hand shook violently. But raise the rim of what was left to his lips, he did. It was easy to see why the hand of bronzed skin trembled. Bandages were wrapped tightly about the majority of it and extending up past the wrist to who knew what end. They were clean, but dyed with yellow salve. _

_Another blink._

_The lurching was more hurried again, this time through a door that seemed distantly familiar. But before any recognition could be made, there were two more blinks, and then the bathroom. Bottles were fumbled for in the medicine cabinet by heavily bandaged hands, bottles falling out in the hasty actions. _

_But the movements had pulled and tugged on the bandages, the pain growing worse by the half-second, and the trembling increased. Pain… too much pain. The bandages began to spot red now against the white of the gauze and yellow salve. So much red…_

_So much pain… it seared through him like a hot serrated knife._

_Then the fingers grasped onto the very thing he'd been searching for, and the lid came off the bottle, the syringe falling into one violently shaking hand. Barely able to line it up with the artery in the crook of his arm, an artery nearly overtaken by bandages as well, the needle plunged in deep, wrenching an inhumane gasp of a name before everything went crimson and dark._

Alphonse jolted upright in bed with a sharp gasp, only to be tugged down again mercilessly by the stranglehold the bedcovers had on him. He flailed to free himself, kicking them away once he had. But he didn't sit up, only put a hand to his clammy forehead and letting out a shaky sigh.

"Not again." He whispered dejectedly, and pulled his hand away so he could flop his head over to look at the clock. The hands on the face informed him it wasn't even past one a.m. "It's just getting worse."

Knowing from prior experience that he'd be getting no more sleep, he did the only thing left to do. He got out of bed. And like all times before, he padded to the kitchen drearily.

**X**

It was not the first time Alphonse found himself here.

For the fourth night in a row he circled a lukewarm cup of tea between his hands as he sat on the last step of the porch of his tiny home on the outskirts of East Central. The tea was more a tactile fixation than a necessity, he wasn't thirsty. The regular movement of it in his hands helped fix a languid pace in his mind, keeping his thoughts from swirling out of control. His dark amber eyes didn't even see the speckled horizon of the night sky despite how he was staring at it.

Past it, if anything.

Past it to the catalyst that had awoken him from dreams at a regular time each night. A catalyst that he had last known to exist in the reaches far beyond what he could now see of the eastern horizon. And every night the dreams of him grew more vivid, until they'd begun reaching the point that they felt real.

It had been many long years since that fateful day, when he'd been turned _into_ the Philosopher's Stone by the will of one Ishbalan. There were days of memory where he had cursed the man's name for doing that to him. But for the most part he'd moved past it. He was alive, he was flesh and blood. Those tumultuous times were over, and he was more than ready to embrace a life of tranquility.

If only the dreams would allow.

He couldn't understand why he kept dreaming of Scar like that. It seemed incomprehensible that the man would even still be alive after the injuries he had to have sustained. So why start haunting him now? Only… he couldn't shake the feeling that gripped him that there was a chance Scar _was_ alive. A feeling coupled with a strange magnetic pull to the east. One he'd been fighting against since the start.

But if Scar was, by some miracle, still alive, what did these dreams mean?

He refused to believe they were anything more than dreams.

Shaking his head Alphonse finally raised the cup to his lips and drank the tea in one sitting. It seemed he had no other choice now. He'd been hoping to avoid going _this_ route, especially at three a.m., but even the sleeping pills had failed him. The last concrete scientific means of trying to achieve some solace at night. So with his mind made up, grudgingly at best, he got up to go back inside. He'd need a jacket.

The walk to Holly's house took just under twenty minutes this early in the morning. For which he was very grateful. Though he doubted he'd be feeling so pleased once he actually woke the woman up.

With that bracing thought in mind, he let himself through the gate of her front yard and made his way up to the door where he knocked several times in quick succession. Then, he waited. All the while cursing his thoughtlessness in not bringing her some sort of peace offering so she didn't bite his head off for the social call at this ungodly hour.

When the deadbolt grated in the door, Alphonse braced himself.

The door opened to reveal a sleepy looking woman with messy red hair and large gray eyes that seemed a bit too large for her head. She had a bathrobe carelessly thrown over her pale blue pajamas, with black house slippers poking out from underneath the leggings. And she considered the young man, barely out of his teens, who had woken her. "Am I to assume you have a good reason?" She asked him point blank.

Alphonse looked properly chastised, but nodded. "I don't know what else to do. The sleeping pills were my last idea, and even those aren't working." He gripped the front of his hair with one hand, the heel of his palm resting against his forehead. "I get three hours of sleep, tops, and then _he_ wakes me up."

"Perhaps you should reconsider your choice of live-in boyfriend then." Holly suggested through a frown.

Alphonse glowered at her. "He's not my boyfriend, but he won't stay out of my dreams!"

Holly blinked, and suddenly stood aside. "Now that, I might be able to help with. And you took sleeping pills." A rich snort of laughter showed what she thought about _that_.

Alphonse followed her into the house, knowing the way she took through the darkened interior by the sound of her amused laughter at his expense. Shaking his head, he just hoped she'd be able to help him. "Holly? Does it make any difference that I used to know the man? I mean, this isn't my mind not having enough to otherwise keep it occupied so it's messing with my memory to give me dreams, it is?"

Holly had just flipped on the light switch to her den. A cozy room, not too large, filled with plump couches and chairs with a dormant fireplace at the fore. But the crystal lamps about the room of warm reds and chocolate browns threw off plenty of soothing light. "I expect that's what you're here to find out." She said as she took a seat on one couch, and patted the cushion next to her. "And if so, then you'll just have to find a mentally stimulating hobby."

With a bit of an appreciative smirk, Alphonse sat down onto the indicated cushion. "What do I do?"

"First?" Holly queried as she settled back into the lush comfort of the velvety leather cushions. "You tell me about this man."

"Not the dream?" Alphonse frowned at her in confusion. "But what will that help?"

Holly leaned forward enough to be able to whack the side of his head. "It helps. Tell me about him."

Rubbing at the now tender spot on his head, Alphonse complied. "Well, his name is Scar. At least, he never told me his real name. I don't think anyone knows it anymore. But he goes by Scar. Or, he used to. He died years ago… he should have." He said firmly. "No one could have survived what happened. I only survived because of what he did to me."

"And what did he do to you?" Holly guided through a sleepy yawn.

"He had this arm, it contained souls. Souls needed to create a Philosopher's Stone. In a way, he implanted that arm into me to save my life. He turned me into a living Philosopher's Stone." And for good measure, added, "but I'm not anymore."

Holly nodded, waving a manicured hand for him to go on.

"After that, it was so chaotic. I barely remember what happened, to be honest." Alphonse admitted a bit shamefully. "It was all so much… too much. But the injuries he'd sustained, and the backlash of what he did to me… there was no way he could have survived that."

When Holly clued in that Alphonse wasn't going to continue on his own any time soon, she took the reins again. "Did you care for the man?"

Leaning back into the cushions as well, Alphonse thought about it. "I don't despise him anymore for what he did to me. There was a time before the end, in the quiet before the storm, where I was in his company for some time. And it showed me that he was a good man. A murderer, yes. But I looked past his blowing people's brains out, I guess. Saw someone who was actually quite selfless. I cared for the friend he could have been, had things been different. Turned out different."

"But did not love?" Holly asked, and at the look she received, smiled. "Must be thorough. You're the one who took sleeping pills."

Alphonse rolled his eyes, but answered. "I was too young to know such a love as you're suggesting. And even if I had known, he'd probably have thought me insane if I had loved him. No, there was no love. Just… a cease fire understanding, and trust."

Holly nodded slowly, "do you love him now?"

Now Alphonse looked at her as if she were the one going insane. "He's dead! Only now, after _years_, am I starting to dream about him. And not dreams that would suggest I even harbor some deep and dark infatuation for a moldering corpse."

Holly smiled at the last, and carefully withheld her chuckle. "That doesn't quite answer the question."

Alphonse sighed, raggedly carding a hand back through his long fringe. "I don't love him. I want him out of my dreams. Yes, I'm sorry he's dead. Grateful he saved my life at cost to his own mortality. But I've moved past any possible anger or guilt. I have not been left with feelings of love to be forever unrequited."

"Is there no chance he could still be alive?"

"No." Alphonse answered, even as he did so, remembering his uncertainties on that very subject. "It's just…" he frowned, "I can't shake the feeling that he _could_ be. But logically, it would make no sense. And I keep having this damnable pull towards the east where we last saw each other. But isn't that just a result of the dreams? Some psychological thing, and nothing more?"

Holly pursed her lips, tapping her fingers together in a steeple formation. "And if he is alive? What then, would you do?"

Alphonse looked towards the fireplace, dark in its lack of flames. "Hypothetically speaking, if he were alive, I'd try to find him again. He saved my life, and that is no small favor. I'd owe him a debt of gratitude."

"These dreams," Holly redirected, "describe them to me. The details, please."

Still looking into the fireplace, though aware of the thoughtful look Holly was watching him with, Alphonse began to relate them to her. Down to the latest one that had woken him up and left him with no choice but to come to her for advice.

Holly remained silent for several minutes after Alphonse finished relating everything. It was a silence unchallenged by the young man beside her. "Do you wonder what your dreams might mean if he is still alive?"

Alphonse gave a haggard sigh, "it's crossed my mind. I suppose pain has something to do with it. But that's absurd that he would be in pain. He's one of the strongest people I ever knew. How could a man who was the personification of unyielding strength go from that, to being in pain all these years later? It's been so long."

"You're assuming now that these dreams reflect Scar's actual current state. Which wouldn't make them dreams." Holly pointed out to him. "Based on the severity of what happened during the event where he should have lost his life, do you not believe that he might still be recovering?"

"It was… catastrophic." Alphonse said quietly, looking darkly at the carpeted floor. "Fine, we've established that I don't know what the hell is going on with my own sleep pattern. What do _you_ know?"

Holly smiled thinly, "you may not like it."

"Let me be the judge of that." Alphonse let out a slow breath. "You'd be surprised just how far my spectrum of things I like and don't like extends. I doubt anything you tell me will top the 'don't like' end as it currently rests."

"Based on your dreams having the clarity they did, and the fact that you were seeing through Scar's own eyes, only lead me to believe that your assumptions that they might not be dreams is correct."

"Then what?" Alphonse interrupted.

Holly tried not to look too disgruntled with him. "Answering that question takes us back to the beginning of what should have been the end. Scar forced part of himself into you in order to save your life. That is not something that is easily done. There has to be mutual trust, as you mentioned, and there has to be a will for it to happen. A deeper emotional connection beyond that of trust."

"Love?" Alphonse frowned, remembering part of their previous conversation. But as soon as he realized he'd interrupted again, he gave her an apologetic grimace. "Sorry."

She smiled, "potentially. The fact is, is that he was able to do it. But when he did that, he didn't just save your life. He transferred part of himself into you. What some refer to as a soul."

"I have his soul?!" Alphonse burst out again, before groaning. "Just get duct tape or something."

Holly rolled her eyes, "you're more amusing this way. But no, you do not have his soul. At least, not the entire thing. Depending on how much of it he gave to you, you could be the very thing anchoring him to the living world. He can live without however much he gave to you, but he cannot be whole without you. If this pain has been festering all these years, we can – well, I can – assume that the part of his soul he still holds is calling out to you."

"Calling out to me." Alphonse deadpanned, and muttered several words that had Holly glaring at him. Which earned her another apology.

"Yes, to you. Because you still keep the rest." Holly told him firmly.

"But that arm, it had souls in it as well. Ones that weren't his. I'm no longer a Philosopher's Stone, so how can I contain souls? Especially that many?" Alphonse frowned at her.

"You had no reason to keep them." Holly said softly, "you cared about Scar, in whatever fashion. But you did not care for the rest. Though you are no longer a Philosopher's Stone, when you became human again, you kept what you cared about. Discarded the rest."

"That sounds cruel." Alphonse muttered. "So, if I'm seeing bits and pieces of Scar as he is now, and he's in pain, I'm to assume he needs my help."

It was not a question.

"That which Scar still keeps is calling out to the rest, to you, for help." Holly nodded. "And I believe that until you can fix whatever made this connection between the two of you forge in such a way, that Scar will continue to haunt your sleep. Until such time he dies."

Alphonse closed his eyes then, boneless against the couch now. This was his diagnosis when sleeping pills failed? It seemed a far cry from an easy fix. And since when had he given Scar permission to inject a portion of _his_ soul as well?! But if what Holly said was accurate, then he wasn't being given much choice here.

Finally, he opened his eyes. "I've got nothing to lose but more sleep." He decided, and sat up a bit straighter. "Even if this turns out to be as useless as those sleeping pills-" he ignored Holly's glare, "-then at least I'll have a bit of a vacation."

"At least." She muttered, still a bit perturbed.

Alphonse smiled at her grimly. "So, what do I need to bring? If Scar truly is injured like I saw, good intentions aren't going to amount to much."

Holly stood then. "I'll get dressed. Go find yourself something to eat in the kitchen if you like. Then we'll go out back to the garden and collect the possibilities. But you'll be surprised just how much good intentions and you being there will do." With that, she began to pad off, muttering "sleeping pills" under her breath with a laugh.

Since when had sleeping pills ever subdued a soul?

"Thanks, Holly!" Alphonse called after her, and finally stood as well. Now that food was mentioned, he was rather hungry. And so he let himself out of the den, turning off the lights. He found the kitchen easily enough, he'd been here far too often. Never for this sort of counsel, he preferred to keep his own. But Holly had always been a good friend to him. Even if she was clearly a little bit insane.

Souls…

He had known before now they could be attached to inanimate things, as his own had once been. But just portions of a soul transferred to another living body?

Shaking his head he rummaged through the refrigerator, finding leftover pancakes which soon became his.

He'd met Holly when he'd moved here several years ago. She was a schoolteacher at the local primary school. But beneath that chalk-loving exterior was a woman who was obsessed with oneirology, among other things such as Zen practices. Personally, he thought she'd do rather well in Xing.

He was sitting at the table, munching on a last pancake, when Holly returned in a pair of overalls, checkered shirt, and boots that had dried mud caked on them. She was pulling on a pair of thick leather work gloves.

"Looking sexy there, Holly." Alphonse teased her.

"Careful," she smirked at him, "I'm getting some scissors."

Alphonse visibly paled a shade. "We've established we're just friends, right?"

Holly laughed and went over to a kitchen drawer to find the scissors. "Yes. I'm perfectly aware I'll never be your live-in boyfriend. And not just because I'm a girl."

Several minutes later found them outside in the herbal garden. Alphonse was dutifully holding the bags as Holly filled them, and listening intently as she told them what each was for in regards to healing. And what he should absolutely not mix together, unless he wanted the part of Scar's soul he held ripped out of him sooner than anyone was planning on.

But that brought another question to Alphonse's mind. "Is there any way to give him back the part of his soul he gave me?"

Holly gave him an incredulous look. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Well," Alphonse began, "ignoring the fact that I feel guilty, and just a bit violated knowing that I've had part of him inside me for years and not known, _and_ he's been suffering to the point that it's come to this, you said he can't be whole without me."

"And this is a problem." Holly deadpanned.

It was Alphonse's turn to look incredulous. "A problem? Yes! It doesn't seem at all fair. To either of us. Either way this goes, one of us is sacrificing something to the other's benefit. Not unless I can give it back to him, or can't he take it back?"

Holly sighed, and turned back to her harvesting. "Understand, I've never actually encountered something like this before outside of theories. I suppose it could be possible, if he adamantly wanted to take it back, and you outright rejected it. But I can't see how such a thing would end happily. Life is about sacrifices, Alphonse. You of all people should know this."

"Of course I-!"

"Then you know that things never stay bad." Holly cut him off, anger almost entering her voice. "And they're never as bad as they seem to be. Especially where souls are concerned. Remember, it took two of you to make that transfer happen." She straightened from her current harvesting project to give Alphonse an indiscernible look. "Which means that you were okay with what happened. Even if neither of you fully understood it. Because I'd bet my rose bushes, that Scar doesn't know anymore than you did before you came to me."

Alphonse slowly nodded, "I lived for years as just a soul attached to a suit of armor. I'll let you know when I start seeing the irony."

Holly laughed at that, and turned back to her harvesting. Maybe there was hope for this after all, now that the initial shock was beginning to wear off. The conclusion certainly had her interest.

Once they were done in the garden, and Alphonse was adequately weighed down with possible helps in healing whatever was wrong with Scar, he said his goodbyes to Holly and started off for home. He needed to arrange some things before he could go on a goose chase for Scar.

All he knew was that the man was somewhere in the east… yep, he'd _definitely_ arrive in time to save Scar. _If_ the man was still alive and this version of soul fairytales wasn't so make believe.


	2. Chapter 2

GreedxEd: Sometimes I have to do cliche, and it does seem to work out well, no? XD

Cheru-chan: I hope the "more" is equally entertaining. And Holly will be reappearing, so no worries.

musicaltastic: I have no idea, I've never read the Artemis books.

kazuko: Well if I do my writing correctly, I'll have you converted by the time the story is over. And Ed's wherabouts will be discussed later on. As for their ages, I'm going for Al being in the general 18-19 area, and Ed being... oh... in his 50's... think Ed would agree? XD

accident prone: Yes! Scar and Al is love! And no, he really doesn't. Come next chapter he'll be wishing he would catch a break every so often.

MandaxPanda: What happens next... authoress fights and wins against the urge to insert fluffy protective Al too soon.

Cesaree: Well I can only hope I can keep living up to the first chapter. Have you been wanting to read Scar/Al? Or was that just in reference to cliche soul stuff.

Nana-Riiko: Well, give me until the end of the story and we'll see if I've gotten the pairing to grow on you XD.

Kari Kurofai: I love you too, so please don't die because of the squee factor -P.

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I did my best to make this chapter, which was a needed transition chapter, not drag on obviously with things that really wouldn't have mattered to Al, but also get to the Scar portion in a way that didn't seem too immediate. I actually had to rewrite it about three times before it came out to what it is. I hope I made the right end call. I guess I'll see what you all think. But regardless, the fun is about to truly begin.

I had some questions regarding Ed and Holly, I thought I should also answer those questions universally too. Edward's whereabouts will be explained later via Al to Scar; as for Holly, she will be a reoccuring character.

I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter Two

It took Alphonse several hours to set everything in order. A few phone calls here, a cleaning of the kitchen there… for there was nothing so terrible as coming home from a vacation to a dirty kitchen growing its own science experiments. All he had left to do was pack his suitcase and he could go to the train station.

There was only one train that now ran into Ishbal, which was where he felt that Scar was. There would be no better place for the man to hide out. Had he stayed in Lior… well, that would have been suicide. At first thought, only having one train to take seemed like it simplified matters. Only it didn't.

Sure, he could take the train into Ishbal, but he doubted the place he kept seeing in his dreams was the same town the train would deposit him at. And besides, that would just be too easy. Everything up until now in his life dictated that nothing was going to be easy. So that meant he was going to have to take a lovely, hot tour of Ishbal trying to find one man who probably didn't want to be found by outsiders.

It was going to be like trying to find one particular grain of sand in a desert.

He finished packing with a look almost akin to self-pity on his face. But there was nothing to do for it except try and find Scar. No. He _had_ to find Scar, else these dreams would continue until the man died. And he wasn't about to wait around to see how long _that_ took.

With a morose shake of his head he grabbed his suitcase by the handle and turned to leave his bedroom. Once he'd locked his house up he headed off on foot to the train station.

Eventually he was standing at a platform waiting for the train to be ready for passengers. Not that there were many… very few ever traveled to Ishbal. It just wasn't the destination many people had in mind. Not to mention the country's past was far from peaceful. Hell, the one Ishbalan he now sought was a prime example of "far from peaceful".

Or, he had been. He wasn't sure if Scar was still somewhat tamed.

After a while the train was finally opened for passengers, and Alphonse made his way to one of the red leather upholstered bench seats. He wedged his suitcase between the wall and his own body before taking to staring out the window dully.

It was a three hour train ride to Ishbal, and he'd forgotten a book.

And when the train finally began to pull from the station, Alphonse felt every single one of those three hours painfully. Even mulling over his current situation did him no good, and sleeping was out of the question. He didn't want to be awoken from another of those dreams while on a public train. There were just some embarrassments a person could do without.

So three hours plus a fifteen minute delay later the train was finally pulling into the last remaining Ishbalan train station. And Alphonse couldn't be more relieved.

He was one of the first off the train.

As he stood there on the platform like the typical tourist arriving in a foreign destination, he carefully looked around. The landscape was as he remembered it. Even from the dreams. Sandy… rocks… it even tasted dry. There was absolutely no moisture in the air.

"Guess I'd better start looking around…" he muttered and finally stepped away from the train.

He knew it would be exceedingly easier to just ask around about Scar, if Scar had been the type that his kinsmen wouldn't protect from outsiders. So he knew that he couldn't rely on anyone to point him in the right direction. He could only rely on what he had seen from his dreams, and that wasn't much…

But it was something.

He knew from repeat experience that Scar seemed to visit a bazaar often in whatever place he was holing up in. If he could find that same bazaar, he could find Scar. Because even if people got suspicious and warned the Ishbalan, he did know the way from the bazaar to the place Scar was staying. He'd traveled it often enough when he should have been getting sleep.

So he made his way over to one of the street vendors who was selling cinnamon covered almonds, and other spiced nuts and fruits. "Hi," he said as the vendor turned to him, "I was wondering if you could tell me where the bazaars are here? I'd like to visit them."

The man was an aged Ishabalan, his skin weathered from the elements of his homeland. And he gave Alphonse a gap-toothed smile. "And where are you from?"

Alphonse smiled, not willing to ruin his chances by trying to hurry things along. "East Central." He replied easily, "I'm a librarian." Which wasn't the truth at all, but it was the farthest and most innocent thing from being involved in the military that he could be. And it also gave him a reason to be frequenting the bazaars, often times they had booksellers.

"Ah, noble job." The man nodded before glancing around. "Bazaars… there's a few here. One is up a few house sections in that direction-" he pointed, "and the other is nearer the outskirts of the town on the western edge."

Alphonse nodded, and was about to thank him and take his leave when he paused. "You wouldn't happen to know which other towns have them, would you?"

"Nearly all, only the villages don't."

Well, that narrowed it down slightly. "Thank you." Alphonse said, giving the man a short wave before heading off to begin his search. Even though he didn't feel this was the right town. He couldn't risk not being thorough.

With the man's directions firmly in mind Alphonse easily found the first bazaar, and after only taking one look at it, knew it wasn't the right one. So still of the firm belief the next one wouldn't prove the correct one either, he went off to check.

"Scar better thank me for this." Alphonse muttered as he walked down the dusty streets.

At least he wasn't being gawked at as much here as he would have been in other towns. With this one having a train stop in it, it pretty much meant that tourists didn't really stand out. He wasn't sure he felt like being stared at on top of everything else on his mind.

It was only the moment that he reached the last bazaar in the town only to find, unsurprisingly so, that it too looked nothing like the one Scar frequented, that his own drive of will eased up. In turn, allowing his subconscious to make a more firm appearance. And as he stood there, temporarily adrift at a loss of where to try next, he was struck by what he'd forgotten.

Every single time he had woken up from those dreams he'd felt an inexplicable magnetic pull towards the east. And while it faded throughout the day, it remained a distant tug in his mind. Now, with his mind more at rest he could feel that tug again.

But it wasn't tugging him east anymore.

Alphonse stood puzzled for a moment, before he looked towards the south. "Okay…" and he was reminded of what he'd said to Holly. "I've got nothing to lose."

Yet if this pull was correct, he'd be having a shorter vacation than he might have. And if it _was_ correct, then he just might have to fully believe that he had part of Scar's soul, and the rest of it was calling out to him.

He just hoped that it wouldn't be a long walk. He didn't mind walking, but it was the landscape that could present a problem. Ishbal was a desert, and like most deserts, water was scarce. He had brought supplies, knowing this, but he had no idea how far he'd be walking before he ran across another town or village that he could restock in.

"I suppose if I die of dehydration that'll solve the problem on my end." Alphonse muttered as he started off, following the anchoring pull that was calling to him. Though he really didn't like the idea of Scar still being hurt… even if he had spent calm years before now thinking the man was dead.

He was certain that any Ishbalans watching him as he began to trek out into the desert surely thought he had taken leave of his senses.

And in a way he supposed he had.

So he kept walking across the unchanging landscape. More sand, more rocks, more sun. This was one of those moments in life where had the sun not been there to give him an anchor as to what direction he was going, and had that faint pull in his mind not been there either, Alphonse believed he would have started going in circles. Because everything looked just the same as everything else.

So he walked for the rest of the day until day faded into night. And night brought at least the welcome relief of cooler temperatures. But it also brought out the snakes and other creatures of the desert night.

Which a few hours later when hunger struck translated into food.

The next snake he came across was soon the victim of some well-placed alchemy, and later on a skinning and sticking over a fire pit. Not too long later he was sitting on one of the many rocks and eating his freshly caught meal. And it wasn't too bad, though he definitely would have preferred a fatter reptile.

He moved on after dousing the fire. For more than one reason he didn't want to try and catch some sleep yet. One, he wasn't tired. And two, sleep meant dreams, and he could really do without the dreams until he no longer could abstain from sleeping tonight. He doubted that his being on the way to get Scar would matter much to the other part of the man's soul. If anything, it would probably only encourage it.

For several hours more Alphonse walked, until he could no longer stave off sleeping. So after pitching camp for the night and having a long drink of water, he settled in to sleep.

"Probably too much to hope you'll leave me alone tonight." Alphonse sighed as he stared up at the stars, waiting for sleep to claim him.

It didn't take long.

And nor did the dreams.

_The room was dark save the strip of moonlight across the floor. A scattered pile of yellow-aged papers lay on the thin blanket covering the mattress on the floor. They bore arcane designs, scribbled notes, suspicious looking stains, and in some cases paragraphs of scribbled words all set up in some chronological fashion. _

_Bandaged hands appeared, their fingers flicking through the papers with stiff movements. Searching for something… always searching. But for what they didn't seem to find as paper after paper passed in no real order past eyes that did not focus on the words. Such was the memorization, perhaps?_

_A blink._

_The bathroom again… save the syringe. Instead rolls of gauze and a tub of sticky looking yellow salve was set open on the cracked countertop. The water at the tap was turned on, sputtering to life as the gauzed hands came into view – the fingers of the right delicately beginning to work the gauze free of the left. _

_Another blink._

_The sink was stained a yellow color once again, globs of yellow salve and some other bleary organic matter floating on the last of the bloodied water down the drain. The left hand appeared once again, now wrapped in a large towel that extended to the wrist and seemingly up the arm. _

_And then suddenly the vision jerked sharply upwards, to the mirror as the still bandaged right hand reached out towards it. A flash of crimson eyes that pierced like a knife before everything went dark as the hand flung open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. _

Alphonse awoke with a jolt that was now all too familiar to him. And he sat up with a muffled groan, running a hand through his hair to brush out what sand had gotten into it. "Apparently the rest of Scar's soul is the impatient portion." He grumbled, applying his hand to his chest above his heart.

He didn't know why… but he could still feel those eyes piercing into him.

Hand still at his chest Alphonse began looking around. He could see it was just before dawn. And he still appeared to be in the middle of nowhere. But right now that magnetic feeling pull towards where Scar apparently was had regained its initial strength. There was no mistaking the direction he felt impulse to go. So he stood up a bit stiffly and gathered up his things into his suitcase before starting off again feeling rather sore around the edges. He wasn't used to sleeping on the ground anymore, he thought he'd given up the traveler lifestyle for good.

"I will have as soon as I've dealt with Scar." Alphonse amended.

And he picked up the pace a little with that thought firmly in mind. He would rather cover as much distance as he could before it got too hot to be walking fast.

Around midday there was a by all accounts spontaneous rain for about half an hour that cooled things off considerably. Yet it didn't help much in the long term as it only made the heat couple with humidity when the clouds vanished. Which meant that Alphonse was doomed to feeling soaked either way.

It was nearing dusk when something finally appeared on the horizon. The staggered and sharp contrasts of human made creations against the purpling sky. And when Alphonse saw it he breathed a sigh of relief. It was about time he saw something resembling human life. Perhaps he'd be able to find a mangled bike or something that he could purchase for cheap, repair in about two seconds, and have a quicker mode of transportation.

By the time he reached the outskirts of the small town it was just starting to get dark.

Alphonse knew he was being stared at by the Ishablans who were outside the homes or shops, but he didn't stop to introduce himself to anyone. He knew that eventually someone would probably come to him, but until then he was just happy acting like a tourist. And so he walked the streets acting like a tourist – which wasn't so different from what he actually was. He was still looking around for anything familiar.

Even while obeying the tugging sensation inside of him.

The prickle of eyes watching him still hadn't gone away as he turned down street after street. He was surprised though that no one had approached him yet to see if they could be of assistance. The next street he turned down though, he forgot all about the people watching him as he looked on at the commotion going on.

There were three men trying to drag another rather inebriated man away, and said inebriated man was trying to fight them off while still somehow managing to take swigs of the pint of ale in one hand. Another man was standing on a stool at the open aired bar shooting out helpful tips to either the self-proclaimed bouncers or the drunk – Alphonse wasn't really sure. The bartender seemed to be ignoring it all. Other patrons were loudly cheering the scene on or placing bets. In general, everything was loud and a mess.

It looked rather like a German family reunion to Alphonse, and he felt a twinge of nostalgia.

Soon it became apparent that the drunken man who was being dragged off had a friend. Said friend had come to assist in trying to get his buddy away from the self-appointed bouncers. One said bouncer was taken out spectacularly by this friend, and a brawl started there in the middle of the road.

"Now this takes me back." Alphonse muttered and then shrugged. It seemed that people acted like this everywhere.

He had nearly passed the bar counter, being ignored by everyone in favor of watching the altercations, when the tugging pull of whatever connection he had to Scar suddenly yanked a change of course so suddenly that it left him with the promising beginnings of a headache.

"You sure you want another?" The bartender asked in that voice all bartenders got when they believed someone had had one too many.

"I've not even finished an entire one. Damn thing keeps spilling." Was the dull but frustrated reply.

Alphonse whipped around at the voice, his wide eyes landing on the hunched figure he'd not seen tucked away in a shadowed corner of the open-aired counter. He didn't need the mental tug towards the man to know who it was. He'd have known that voice anywhere. "Scar?" He whispered in something close to disbelief.

And he stood there for what seemed an eternity, though in reality it was only a few seconds, standing in amazement that Scar _was_ still alive. Then the pull _had_ been correct, it was even now directing him towards the Ishbalan that had captured his attention. Then the thing about the souls… Scar was _alive_! That had to mean something!

The bartender frowned as he reluctantly got another glass. "Doubt the drinks will help cure that."

Alphonse moved slowly towards Scar with a pounding heart, still unnoticed. Even the bartender didn't seem to notice him as he approached. Only mere inches from Scar he reached out, wanting to tap the man's shoulder, when out of nowhere Scar seized up with a sharp intake of breath.

"You all right?" The bartender asked.

Scar looked down at the bandages as he tried to control the shaking overtaking him as pain began to rear its head once more. "Fine." He forced out. "Give me the beer."

Suddenly Alphonse was no longer frozen as he'd been when Scar had seized up, and he quickly stepped forward to reach around Scar and swat the beer away with a spectacular spray of brown liquid as soon as it made contact with the counter. "You are not fine, Scar!"

"Who do you-!" Scar began with a snarl before he stiffened abruptly, hands clenching together.

"Hey-!" Began the bartender – everyone else was just watching with interest.

Alphonse had whirled on the bartender first, even if he'd cut both of them off at the same time. "You're an idiot! Can't you see he's not well?!" And he whirled on Scar now, for the Ishbalan was facing him with flashing angry red eyes. And for a moment he could only stare as his breath stalled in his chest. In all the days he'd spent with Scar, never before had he seen the man look this haggard. The circles were deep and dark under the red eyes that had awoken him each night since this all began. Exhaustion was painted plainly across the man's face, and it made his pounding heart clench. "And you… what happened to you?" Alphonse asked in a breathless tone.

"Get lost." Scar growled menacingly before his red eyes suddenly widened as a jolt of agony spread through him like wildfire, causing him to stiffen in an attempt not to show weakness. "Shit…" he whispered, it was getting worse faster still. He needed to get out of here.

In one jerky movement Scar stood, a bandaged hand reaching over blindly for something that had been on his other side. His hand grasped the cane hard as he simultaneously turned to leave. Only to have it catch on a stool leg and trip him up.

Alphonse instinctively reached out with a bit of a worried sounding gasp to steady Scar, only to be swatted away. "Hey!"

"I don't need help from kids!" Scar snarled as he began to hurry away at a sickening to watch lurch, leaning heavily on his cane.

Alphonse grabbed up the suitcase he'd dropped to the ground in order to steady Scar and darted after the Ishbalan. "I'm not a kid anymore! And whether you want my help or not you're getting it, Scar." He didn't even wait for Scar to turn a startled and suspicious look on him before he added, "you saved my life."

"I'm not in the business of saving the lives of anyone not from Ishbal." Scar snarled at him over his shoulder. "Get lost."

Alphonse did no such thing, but nor did he bother with a reply. He only trotted along after Scar, hovering just near enough that they could have touched. He could explain things to Scar later. And Scar it seemed had given up snarling at him as if he were merely a lost puppy to frighten off. He had only gained one last menacing look before Scar had become entirely occupied with reaching that house.

However he did spare a confused and somewhat suspicious thought as to why no one had tried to stop him yet from following Scar. But he didn't dwell on it for long, not wanting to lose track of the man or let his guard down now that he'd found him.

Scar was silently seething underneath the pain as he realized that stupid kid that had knocked away his beer wasn't about to stop following him. He would have to deal with it later, first he needed to take care of the pain before it consumed and blacked him out. So he didn't even bother slamming and locking the door in the kid's face when he reached his dwelling. He'd eject the pest in minutes anyway.

Alphonse however did bother with locking the door as he entered after Scar, right before he took a deep breath and followed the sounds he could hear coming from the bathroom. "Just have to keep him from turning my brain into pudding until I explain." He figured it might be best to start with a name, instead of all this soul talk.

And he braced himself for the inevitable clash before the calm.


	3. Chapter 3

Sailor Silver Rose: Scar will take the soul talk with classic Scar understanding... veiled threats are lovely.

accident prone: Not easy for Al this chapter, not easy for him next chapter, but bless him he's trying.

Cheru-chan: Popcorn? ...-scoots closer to you-

Kari Kurofai: Yush, you had to wait for Scar's eventual blowup, but no longer! And no pun intended XD.

reighchama: I never did like doing stories with Al in a suit of armor myself, so I understand.

GreedxEd: It's only chapter three and already you're thinking ahead to multiple uses for beds? Good lord woman, I married you? XD

GWings: Yeah, I'm with you there. Three hours with no book on a train is absolutely dreadful.

MandaxPanda: More? Of course there is more.

* * *

I had so much fun writing their little arguments... and the knowledge that there are plenty more on the horizon? I am positively giddy. Be scared when the author is giddy.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Three

Scar's teeth ground together from bearing the pain, but it was the only outward sign he now gave that he _was_ in pain. Even his eyes no longer reflected it, pain instead making way for focus as he carefully pushed the contents of the syringe at a measured rate into his arm. When the contents were emptied he withdrew the needle from his skin with a shallow breath.

Laying the syringe aside Scar only cast his arm one embittered look before yanking the blood spotted and yellow stained gauze back over to cover the injection site. Little tremors of pain still danced along his nerves, but those were gradually fading. The mixture worked well to quickly subdue the pain… but it was not perfect. Like all humans, he was beginning to develop a resistance to the analgesic, as was proved earlier.

He should have had at least another hour of relief.

But now was not the time to worry about the drawbacks and problems he was facing.

Turning around Scar stalked out of the bathroom with as dangerous an air as was possible when he was leaning on a cane every other step. But judging by the way the blond brat standing in the middle of his bedroom suddenly swallowed in a sign of nervousness, he was doing rather well despite the cane.

Alphonse had known what he was getting himself into, and he stood his ground, but that didn't mean he wasn't rightfully wary of the man. He knew what Scar was capable of. The man was easily four times his size, and he was fairly certain that Scar wasn't exactly overjoyed to have him in his home right now.

…if he could call the dingy shack a home.

His best defense was to speak first. "Scar –"

"I do not know what death wish you have, kid," Scar cut him off with a snarl, "but you have two seconds to get out of my home or I will remove you myself… in many pieces."

Now that, Alphonse did believe, but he stood his ground. Even going so far as to drop his suitcase in a manner that clearly implied he wasn't going anywhere. "I'm Alphonse, Scar," he quickly said, knowing how imperative it was that he try and throw Scar something to stall him. "I'm here to help you."

Scar, just about to reach out for the kid paused… crimson eyes studying the young man in front of him for the briefest moment before his hand suddenly snapped forward to grab the front of the blond's shirt and yank him forward. "And why should that name mean anything to me…" he sneered as he looked this brat up and down, "the Alphonse I knew wasn't a runt. And he certainly wasn't human."

Alphonse determinedly kept his hands down instead of trying to free himself. Even if at this moment he knew fear. Scar had a vice grip on his shirt, and his feet were barely touching the ground anymore. "I got my body back…" he was proud to notice his voice remained steady, "when you turned me into a philosopher's stone, upon losing that condition I regained my body."

Scar chuckled darkly, his hand gripping even tighter now to the shirt he clenched. "Likely story of military fabrication. Tell me," he continued before a reply could be made, and his cane clattered to the floor as he reached up with his other hand to stroke at the blond hair, "in the debriefing, did they tell you my preferred manner of dealing with people like you."

Alphonse shivered, this was getting bad fast. He didn't know if Scar could still perform that certain type of alchemy… but he didn't want to find out firsthand. And he reached up now with one hand to move the man's hand away from his head, something he was surprised he didn't have to put much effort into doing. "What must I say to make you believe me?"

Scar smirked at seeing the fear in those amber eyes. Good, this brat should fear him. But even so, nothing had been attempted to truly get away. So either this kid was a fool… or he was telling the truth. And if it were the latter… "there is nothing you can say."

Alphonse looked at him disbelievingly, and suddenly felt a flare of anger well up inside him. "Are you telling me that everything we went through together, _everything_, was meaningless to you?! I guess you must go around saving people's lives like you did mine all the time then! I wonder how many other people there are out there who think you sacrificed yourself for them. Though it's a wonder you've not run out of tattooed appendages yet! It makes me wonder just how many people are wandering around unknowing that you inserted pieces of your soul into them without their knowledge."

Whatever biting response Scar had been forming in his head vanished at the appearance of the last of that tirade. And he could only stare at the young man he still held firm. "What did you say?"

"Shall I repeat the whole thing for you?" Alphonse glared at him, "or just sum it up and inform you that you've become the biggest self-serving prick I've ever met. Or have you always been this way, and the times before were all just a façade?"

Scar suddenly released his hold on the blond, causing Alphonse to stagger back several steps to regain his balance. "What do you mean, pieces of my soul."

Alphonse straightened his shirt out with a glare, even as he breathed some relief for a moment. "When you transferred all those souls into me, you implanted a portion of your own soul as well. From what I've been told by a friend who knows a bit about this sort of thing, when I became human again I discarded all the souls you'd put into me, but kept the portion of your own."

"That's ridiculous." Scar said, carefully leaning down to pick up his cane again. "I would never have done that."

"Might I remind you that you weren't exactly in the best of conditions yourself when you saved me." Alphonse replied tartly. "According to my friend there has to be mutual trust for it to happen."

Scar gave the young man a weary look. "Get out. I'd say creativity is worth your life, but not for long."

Alphonse didn't budge. "I'm not leaving, Scar. Not until I help you. I haven't had a proper night of sleep in far too long because of you."

"That's no concern of mine!" Scar barked at him.

"But it is! Subconsciously, it is!" Alphonse argued, not taking a step back even when Scar moved to advance on him. "Whatever part of your soul that you still keep has been sending me visions every time I sleep. Visions of you in pain, as you're clearly in. Now I'm no expert, but to me that means that in order for me to have a decent nights rest again I'd better get you healed. And as tempting as I'm sure it must be to want to kill me, I'd suggest you don't. I don't know what amount of your soul I have inside of me, much less what it would do to you if it were gone."

Scar reached out for Alphonse again, but this time the blond darted away. "Alphonse…" he growled warningly. "Do not test me. You know what I'm like."

Alphonse swallowed against his nerves as he nodded once. "Then you believe me now?"

"I believe you're who you say you are. But your reasons for being here are the silliest thing I've ever heard. I think I'd know if part of my soul went missing." Scar said, following after the path Alphonse had taken to the side. "I'd be more ready to believe that you're here to thank me for saving your life. Understand, however, that I do not require the favor of aid to be returned. Now get out, unless you wish to make what I did meaningless as I kill you."

Alphonse shook his head. "It's the truth, as best as I can discover it. And I'm not going anywhere. Consider this my thank you."

"You've got an imposing way of thanking someone." Scar reached out for Alphonse again, and this time the blond didn't move away. "Get," he said slowly as he dragged Alphonse forward by his shirt again, "out. Now."

Alphonse shook his head stubbornly. "Don't be an idiot, Scar. You need help." He looked down at the arm of the hand gripping him, and felt something inside him tighten at the sight of the gauze bandages covering near the entirety of the strong arms he knew lay under them. "And I don't feel like waiting around for you to die to be free to sleep peacefully." He looked back up determinedly into crimson eyes. "Just give me twenty-four hours to help. Please. And if nothing has changed, throw me out."

Scar growled low in his throat before he abruptly released Alphonse. "You have until tomorrow night to pester me. But if I'm not marginally better for your unwanted doting, then you had better run."

Alphonse breathed a quiet breath of relief, his nerves fading somewhat. And he straightened his shirt again before giving a business-like nod. "Then I need to get started." Holding the red gaze steadily, he stepped up to Scar as his hands reached out to the man's right arm. "May I?"

Scar didn't take his eyes away from the amber ones boring determinedly into his own. It was this determination, despite the fact that Alphonse had been afraid, that had allowed Alphonse to stay. He didn't speak, only gave a slight nod of his head.

With that permission now secure, Alphonse looked away to begin carefully undoing the bandages from the top – which was near mid-bicep. And as he unwound them he hissed in a gulp of air, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he saw what was underneath.

Scar's arm looked as if it had been burned in a fire. There was dead skin, scarred skin, skin that was attempting to heal in a scaly fashion, red rawness tinged with blood, spots of infection, and other imperfections whose only purpose was to cause pain. There was some undamaged skin, mostly around the hands. But it was not much compared to everything else.

"What happened to you?" Alphonse words were barely a whisper as the soiled bandages fluttered to the floor from his hands.

"I saved your life." Scar replied in a neutral tone, and as those amber eyes darted back up to his own, said, "I blocked the worst of the explosion with my arms. It saved my life as well… such as it is. It actually used to be a lot worse."

Alphonse tried not to feel a flash of guilt. "It's been years… and it's still raw in places?"

Scar shrugged one shoulder, "it seems I am a slow healer now."

No… that wasn't it. Alphonse shook his head, it wasn't that Scar was suddenly a slow healer. The man was missing part of his soul, his will, as it were, to heal. Without a soul, everything a human was was rendered useless. It just existed. Even the immune system. But Scar still had a portion of his soul, hence there was healing, just not speed of healing. "This is all my fault."

"I chose to save you, and I've chosen to live with this." Scar waved off the sentiment.

"No." Alphonse corrected quickly, "I mean I should have searched for you sooner. After everything we went through together, what you did for me… even if it meant nothing to you, it did me. I shouldn't have just assumed… I mean, at least I could have buried you if I had found you dead."

Scar gave him a thin smile, "I try not to think about the past. However you might want to, so you can recall you have a limited amount of time before I get rid of you."

Alphonse frowned at him, but nodded. "Okay." And he turned to the task of undoing the bandage on the left arm. Whatever yellow salve Scar was using, Alphonse discounted as any aid. "If you'll go wash your arms, or disinfect them however you have been?"

Scar didn't bother with an answer, only made his way back into the bathroom.

As he listened to the water run, Alphonse knelt on the floor of unfinished hardwood planks and opened his suitcase. From inside he went through the packages Holly had given him until he found the ones he was looking for. And he quickly got to work.

When Scar came out of the bathroom, his wounds disinfected, he found Alphonse had set up what looked like a miniature chemists lab on his bedroom floor. Curiosity niggled at him to ask what the young man was doing, but he kept silent. Instead walking over to carefully lower himself onto his mattress.

"May I see your notes?" Alphonse asked as he worked, not looking up from what he was doing. Which at this moment, was setting some tea to steep.

Scar blinked, not quite understanding. "Notes?"

Alphonse looked up, "yes. In my dream last night you were looking at some papers that had notes all over them? Some of them looked like they were to do with what happened to you." He waved a hand at Scar's injuries.

At that, Scar's eyes widened in disbelief. "How do you know about those?"

"I told you, I saw them in my dream about you last night." Alphonse repeated patiently. "The portion of your soul I contain has been sending me flashes of what you see."

Scar looked on, taken aback completely, as Alphonse continued to work. And suddenly any doubt he had had that this _was_ the Alphonse he had saved went away. There would have been no way that Alphonse could have known about those notes otherwise, no one else knew about them. And if Alphonse had been spying he would have heard someone outside. So how hard was it to believe that this was the right Alphonse if the caramel blond had actually seen those notes? But wrapping his mind around the idea that this split soul thing was actually real was a bit more headache inducing.

Yet it was the only thing that was now making sense. The only thing that could have allowed Alphonse to know about those notes.

"May I see them?" Alphonse asked, startling Scar out of his thoughts. And as he noticed the look on the Ishbalan's face he smiled. "Don't worry, the shock factor does start fading. I am Alphonse, and I do seem to house part of your soul which you gave to me, whether you intended to or not."

"Why didn't you just say something like that earlier?" Scar finally asked.

Alphonse gave him a wry look, "I didn't expect that you'd have still been angry with me when I told you who I was. I thought that would be the safest route, rather than coming out and telling you exactly why I was here, or divulging things I've seen in my dreams through your eyes."

Scar grunted, almost sounding amused. "When you put it like that."

Alphonse smiled at him again. "So, may I see the notes? There may be something you missed that could help."

"They're up inside the mattress… it zips closed." Scar informed him after a moment, and then motioned with one raw looking hand towards the clutter Alphonse had around him. "And what is this supposed to do for me?"

"Help heal you." Alphonse rolled his eyes. "Since I doubt my good intentions and being here will do much of anything."

Scar looked away, "at least I get to know that you made it out okay."

"Somehow." Alphonse gave the herbs he was working with a pensive look. "Once I got my body back things became safer for me. But you don't have to try being nice to me now."

For a while, Scar said nothing, and then he finally looked back to Alphonse. "I've never gone to those lengths to save anyone's life before. Just you. I could have run, I might have lived… but I chose to save you and risk dying for it. There's no one else I would have done that for."

The look Alphonse turned on him was unreadable, and finally he looked away. "So why be so keen to kill me earlier?"

Scar gave a half-hearted shrug. "Until just a while ago, I wasn't entirely convinced you are who you say you are."

"And you are now?" Alphonse quirked up an eyebrow. But when no answer was forthcoming, and Scar could only look back at him, he looked away. "Do you still want to kill me?"

"Not tonight." Scar replied softly.

It wasn't the ideal answer, but he would take it. "And the others in this town? Why did they not try to stop me from following you? I thought you would have been guarded quite heavily by your kin."

Scar cleared his throat roughly. "They most likely thought you were a prostitute."

"Excuse me?!" Alphonse gaped at him. "Do I look like a prostitute to you?!"

Scar looked over at him, and in quite an assessing manner slid his gaze up and down Alphonse's body before locking gazes with those amber eyes. "No. But you have to know that this is a shadier town, it wouldn't be the first time we've had people from other places show up here needing some quick cash."

"And would you have… you know?" Alphonse asked in a ruffled manner. "You did leave the door open for me."

Scar smirked at him then. "No. I would not have. I would have tossed you out. I may be injured, but everyone here in town knows I can still handle myself against the most determined of opponents."

Alphonse settled back into what he was doing with a grumble. "Or you call a temporary cease fire."

"For Alphonse Elric, I can make an exception for twenty-four hours."

Alphonse could only continue to grumble to himself about the prostitute thing, and he continued to shoot glances at Scar every so often, wondering if the man had told the truth. He wasn't sure whether or not to believe that Scar would have tossed out a prostitute. Not that it was his business, but as the victim of a possibly mistaken… purpose, he was rightfully annoyed and suspicious.

"Here," Alphonse said after a few more minutes, offering Scar the cup of tea. "This will relax you while I work. I need your blood pressure to stay normal."

Scar took the tin travel cup by its rubber handle and began to drink without question. Even though he was wondering what exactly Alphonse was planning that might raise his blood pressure. Yet he had promised Alphonse twenty-four hours to try. He would cooperate.

Alphonse waited until the entire cup had been drunk, and then took it away. "Towels in the bathroom?" He asked, half standing.

Scar nodded. "Clean ones are on a rack on the wall."

Alphonse stood up the rest of the way and made his way into the bathroom to find them. He cast the sink, medicine cabinet, and mirror he recognized a thoughtful look before grabbed two towels. He'd go through the cabinet later.

Walking back out he found nothing at all amiss with the fact that Scar was sprawled back on the bed unconscious, limbs at odd angles.

"Sorry," Alphonse said over the man's unresponsive body, "but trust me, it was easier than strapping you down." And he knelt by the mattress, "this is going to hurt… a lot."

With a silent prayer to the gods that the Ishbalans recognized that Scar might not kill him come morning for this, he set to work. If he did everything right, there should be a noticeable difference by tomorrow. And he hoped that Holly's instructions would serve him well as he began to massage his own concoction onto the injured portions of Scar's skin.

He was very careful with his massaging. But this was the exact reason he'd drugged Scar. This wasn't the type of massage that was meant to bring any sort of relief. It would hurt, but it would only quicken the healing with the increased blood flow.

Once he'd massaged it all in, until the only sign that he'd applied anything was a slight sheen to the skin of the arms he went to find those gauze bandages in the cabinet where he knew they were kept. He'd seen through Scar's eyes often enough to find them. And he came back to deftly wrap up his handiwork.

At that point he rearranged Scar on the mattress, so he was laying properly across it. The cane he set near the edge in reach should Scar need it. Though he was hoping that it wouldn't be used as a clubbing device once Scar awoke and realized that he'd been drugged. He stared at the wooden cane for a moment longer before he looked to Scar's legs.

To him it hadn't appeared that Scar was favoring either of his legs. And at one point Scar had actually deserted the cane in order to run that potentially lethal hand over his head. A thought which made him shiver now. Scar didn't have to use alchemy on his head, the man's hand alone was large enough to sufficiently crush around him. "Your hands have saved my life… and they could end it just as easily." He whispered and sat back on his heels.

He knew he could always fight back against Scar, and that he probably would if he felt in true danger. But he also trusted Scar. Such a trust as he had in this man was hard to abandon.

"I'll have to ask about the cane tomorrow." Alphonse sighed and rose to his feet. He was hungry, and he was hoping that Scar had some food somewhere in this place. He'd eat, and then get busy looking around to see what exactly Scar had been self-medicating with.

The hour had grown late, and moonlight was thrown across the floors. It provided enough light to rummage for food by. He saw lamps wherever he went, but he did not dare light them and attract possible outside attention. With Scar drugged and knocked out he didn't want to deal with any questions of suspicion.

Once he had eaten a sandwich he'd made for himself he went back to rummage through Scar's bathroom. And after taking catalogue of what the man was treating himself with, which either ended up being nothing Alphonse recognized, or something Alphonse was aghast that Scar was using, he ran the tub full of water for his first bath in days.

After he'd sufficiently splashed around enough in the water he got out and made himself presentable again before going back out into Scar's bedroom. There he took a seat on the edge of the mattress, looking at the man lying there peacefully. A faint smile pulled at his lips. Scar didn't look very dangerous when he slept… quite the opposite really.

"I'm in for a long night, aren't I." Alphonse sighed and pulled his knees to his chest.

He dared not fall asleep and risk Scar waking up before him and strangling him for the drugging of the tea. Which really, quite frankly, sucked. Tonight was probably the only night he'd have been able to get a proper night of sleep, as Scar was sleeping as well. There were no visions to see if Scar was asleep.

None tonight but his own as he settled in for a long night of no rest. But even so, he couldn't help but feel a happy little flicker of success. He may still not fully grasp the gravity of what he was doing, but it did feel good.


	4. Chapter 4

accident prone: I think it counts as bickering... because Al _is_ trying to argue against killing him. Al wants to liiive! But thank you! I'm so glad you're really getting into the story.

Sailor Silver Rose: Yes, I know what you mean. There's not much out there. But I figure that I'll at least start getting more Scar/Al out there, one story at a time. Only place to really start.

Sonar: Thank you! And yes, Al would show some fear. While he is brave, he's not as reckless as Ed is. So that does leave him open to more potentially fear-inducing experiences.

MandaxPanda: Yes, the morning! XD ...I think that _almost_ qualified as a cliffhanger last chapter.

GWings: I don't think even the meanest person out there could deny Al. He's just too sweet, and stubborn. And as for when Scar wakes up... you're about to see.

Cheru-chan: Popcorn! -pounces on it- Hah, I bet that was disappointing. And that is very much like what will happen later. A very stark contrast to each other in size, but it just makes it all the cuter when they start loving on each other.

GreedxEd: Al is not a prostitute! You evil woman, Scar is coming to get you for saying that.

Kari Kurofai: Running probably sounds good to him about the time Scar wakes up.

Hikari Kura: I take full responsibility for making you love this pairing XD. And I am so happy that you do.

Miru: Thank you! I'm so glad to see another person who likes this pairing.

* * *

So everyone knows, I never want to see a 7-layer bar again in my entire life. Or smell butterscotch for that matter. I just had to put that out there.

And now the morning that everyone was waiting for...

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Four

Scar groaned as he stirred awake. His head was pounding like never before, and part of his memory of last night was missing. Actually, he couldn't remember anything after Alphonse had given him that tea to drink. And it didn't take him very long to piece together what must have happened.

His eyes opened in a flash.

Alphonse hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until suddenly he was having trouble breathing. Painful trouble. Instantly fear had him jerking awake and clutching with a choking cry at the wrist of the hand choking him. Gasping and wheezing he flailed trying to get free while desperately trying to shove Scar off.

Scar glared into the terrified amber eyes and only reached back with his other hand to grab the knee of one kicking leg and restrain it while he continued to press down on Alphonse's windpipe. "You think you can drug me and get away with it?!"

Alphonse couldn't even speak to answer, even his struggling was growing sluggish as lack of oxygen caused his brain to begin shutting down from consciousness.

Scar snarled and only pressed down harder when Alphonse dug his fingers in for what looked like a desperate last attempt to try and wrench him away. He could see the light beginning to fade from the amber eyes, and it wouldn't last much longer… he knew how to strangle a man, and Alphonse was no exception.

Tears were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes as Alphonse tried to breathe. But everything was beginning to go black… and his limbs felt leaden, they weren't obeying him anymore. Something that should have panicked him further, made him more desperate… but it was already too late.

Scar waited until the hands trying to pry him off fell aside with twin thuds, and the panicked gasping attempts for breath were no longer heard as the amber eyes glazed over, before he roughly released the young man. "Our deal's off!" He bit out furiously. "Get out of my sight before I finish it!"

Alphonse clutched at his throat with one hand as he coughed violently trying to get oxygen again. His throat burned, and he felt so lightheaded he thought he might be sick. His entire body was shaking uncontrollably as he struggled to sit up despite the world spinning around him. "Scar…" he wheezed as he watched the man warily.

"Out!" Scar snapped furiously, standing abruptly and towering at full height over the shaking young man.

"No!" Alphonse argued despite everything common sense wise that told him to run like hell while he still could. The man had been strangling him! But he shook his head rapidly, still coughing, wincing from the pain of speech. "No."

"You stupid fool!" Scar growled, one hand snapping down to grab the front of Alphonse's shirt again and haul him forcefully to his feet and off of them until they were mere inches from each other. "I told you our deal is _off_! Or do I need to put it to you in terms you can understand…?" He whispered silkily as he reached his other hand up to begin petting Alphonse's head.

Alphonse trembled as he dangled there in the air, the cloth of his shirt cutting into his arms, and tried ducking his head away but Scar only grabbed his head, not phased this time when Alphonse tried to swat him away.

"You're not getting away." Scar purred as he stared penetratingly into the amber eyes, and his fingers carded under the soft caramel-colored hair to make certain Alphonse knew _exactly_ where his hand was.

"You would have done it by now if you wanted to at all." Alphonse whispered as he tried to stifle the fear within him. He knew that could be taken as a dare… and he sincerely hoped Scar wouldn't bite. But he still trembled even as his coughing began at last to subside, though not the burn in his throat, or the gravelly, abused quality in his voice.

"Are you so sure about that?" Scar questioned right into Alphonse's ear, and he smirked as he felt the shiver that ran through the small body completely at his mercy. "Men have died at my hands for far less crimes than drugging me."

"But you never toyed with them." Alphonse's hands had wounds themselves into Scar's shirt… one more loosely than the other. Under the fear that was flooding him right now, he knew he still had an out, if he chose to take it. Or take it in time.

Scar chuckled darkly into Alphonse's ear, still not having straightened. "Perhaps I've developed a sadistic streak of playing with my prey before I kill it." And he began to pet Alphonse's hair again with indulgent strokes. "Like if I say I won't kill you… and see that relief in your eyes… right before I make them go dark. Shall I not kill you, Alphonse? You're not begging yet."

"I won't beg for my life. I don't think you'd kill me anyway." Alphonse's hand loosened even more in Scar's shirt until his fingers barely touched the fabric. "I won't leave. You won't kill me, for not knowing what will happen to you if I die. I'd be taking a part of your soul with me."

Scar made a face Alphonse never saw at the mention of that whole soul business. If the blond was right about it, then he had a valid point. He couldn't know what would happen if he killed someone who was holding a part of his soul. But that was only _if_ Alphonse was right… and his hand stilled against the head he petted when he considered that little 'if'.

Alphonse sensed the hesitation, and knew he had to do this now. And though he was perhaps even more afraid, given what he was about to do, he knew he had no choice. Scar's hand had stopped, and as discomforting as it was to have had it stroking him like that after it had strangled him, it was even worse to have it stopped in one place. And even if Scar hadn't stopped in preparation for killing him he wasn't going to stand for any more of this psychological torment.

But more than anything, he didn't want to die yet.

Scar cried out sharply in pain as he felt two fingers viciously pinch and twist the hypersensitive skin of his inner thigh. He shoved Alphonse away harshly as he collapsed to his knees with a wounded groan. "Alphonse! I'll-"

"Kill me?" Alphonse finished with a scowl as he nearly fell back when his feet hit ground again from so rough a release, but he steadied himself after only a few staggering steps. "I don't think so. So that was your warning to stop trying to fuck with my mind! I'm scared of you when you get like that! Who the hell wouldn't be? But don't think I'm going to let you push me around! I drugged you last night because it was the most humane thing to do. I care more about you than my fear." And Alphonse cast an embittered look to the floor. "Look at what it's brought me."

Scar was actually rendered speechless for a moment as he winced in pain. The glare had yet to fade though from his eyes as he stared the young man down. Finally when he could reply, it wasn't with the threat Alphonse was probably expecting. "You attacked me."

"You say it as if it's shocking." Alphonse braved a smirk at the astonished tone of Scar's statement. It was becoming easier now that he didn't have a certain lethal hand attached to his head.

"It is." Scar took hold of his cane and used it to help him get up, wincing the entire time and digging his hand into the cane handle. "Feels like I got castrated." He groaned as he staggered fully to his feet.

Alphonse bit his bottom lip a moment before rolling his eyes. "Maybe I did that a little harder than I should have. But I won't apologize. You deserved it."

"I think you'll find two different stories on that." Scar growled as he stalked forward towards Alphonse, and wasn't surprised anymore that the brat stood his ground.

"Don't ever touch my head again without my permission." Alphonse warned, amber eyes only containing remnants of his earlier fear. "Now be a good patient and let me do whatever I need to do and _trust me_. Just a little. I came here and have put up with your temper because I want to help you. If I wanted to hurt you, I'd not have come, and just kept looking for new options to sleep until you died."

Scar stopped quite close to Alphonse, but the amber eyes only shone determinedly up at him. Flickers of fear, but determination. "You really are a fool."

"Maybe I am." Alphonse replied quietly, and as he saw Scar's hand raise again he smacked it back down angrily. "I told you not to touch my head again without permission!" He snapped in a voice that cracked only at the end.

"I wasn't going to touch your head." Scar frowned and reached up again, only to be smacked away once more. "Alphonse!"

"Then don't touch me at all!" Alphonse took a step back uncertainly. "Right now I just…" he shook his head, "you strangled me, and you terrified me… maybe you feel I deserved it…" and Scar probably did, "but I just can't trust you right now. I can't trust you touching me right now."

Scar's hand stayed down this time, and against the rise of annoyance, he felt almost… guilty. He didn't dare question though whether he'd stepped over the line between punishment and cruelty. Once he started questioning that, it was all downhill from there. "How can you ask me to trust you when you can't trust me?"

"I do trust you." Alphonse answered, trying not to notice that he felt oddly still now. Had he been shaking that much? He passed a hand over his eyes, trying to finish piecing himself back together. "I just can't trust you touching me right now."

Scar was silent for a moment before he finally decided on what would be best for them both. "You should go."

"No." Alphonse refused once more, lowering his hand to glare up at Scar. "Haven't we been through this before? I'm not leaving until I've had my time to try healing you."

"The only thing that stopped me from slowly snapping your neck as you lay there suffocating was because I believed you'd rid me of yourself, and not leave me a body to dispose of." Scar growled, he needed to get Alphonse out of here now before he did something he'd surely regret. "Now that I know otherwise… you'd best leave. Next time I won't show restraint."

Alphonse shook his head. "I won't leave. I know you're just trying to scare me off without touching me. But I won't go until tonight. And I have to trust you won't touch me again… because you wouldn't be trying to send me away unless you didn't want to hurt me." And he peered up at the man with apprehension. "Do you really want to hurt me?"

Red eyes narrowed before Scar turned away with a grumble. "Either you're stupid, or brave." And he began to make his way back towards the mattress, leaning on his cane every other step. "Tell me why you drugged me."

Alphonse hesitated a moment, the ache in his throat a reminder of why self-preservation dictated he should flee, before he followed. "When I said it was to keep your blood pressure down I didn't lie. The method of getting the medicine into your arms would have been excruciating for you to sit through. I thought you might have preferred being unconscious for it and not feeling any more pain than you have already, than being subjected to it and mostly likely strapped down so you wouldn't jerk about and potentially cause yourself more pain."

It was the mention of pain that caused Scar to pause, and he turned around so quickly that Alphonse actually jumped. But he ignored the reaction as his cane clattered to the floor so he could begin unwinding one neatly wrapped bandage as quickly as he could. And as each section of bandage was cast from his arm, until it fluttered to the floor as a whole, Scar's eyes grew more incredulous.

Instead of the angry various appearances usually dotted with blood, pus, or some other unhealthy colored substance, there was only raw pink skin where Alphonse must have applied medicine. It was very raw, and looked liable to shatter at a touch, but it was there. Even the worst of the wounds had formed scabs at last. And while the skin around the scabs looked inflamed, and possibly a bit infected still, they were there.

"I'm not in pain…" Scar's voice had an awed, hushed quality to it as he stared in disbelief. "I should have needed an injection when I woke up."

Alphonse had been smiling as he saw that something he had done must have worked, and to see how stunned Scar looked. But at the mention of that injection he scowled. "I can't believe you were injecting yourself with that stuff! I saw the labels."

"It was the only thing that worked." Scar defended, not looking at Alphonse due to his occupation of unwrapping the other bandage hurriedly.

"Well since it seems that it _isn't._" Alphonse snipped, feeling just a bit unappreciated right now, "you won't mind me throwing it out."

Scar did look up then at the tone, wondering what he'd done this time. "No…"

"Good!" Alphonse growled and stomped off to do just that.

Scar thought about it a moment, reflecting on everything they'd said up until that point, everything that had happened, before it dawned on him. And he was beginning to hate these little flashes of guilt that stemmed from something he'd done to Alphonse. Leaning down to pick up his cane again, he tapped his way to the bathroom as well looking quite rueful.

"I'm sorry."

Alphonse turned quickly from his rummaging in the cabinets. "Sorry for what?" He asked coolly. "Exactly which part of this whole thing are you apologizing for?"

Scar felt that perhaps he should have been phased by the question, but believing it to lead into uncharted territory he didn't want to explore, and nor would ever need to given that they'd be apart soon enough once more, he settled for the safe answer. The most immediate one. "Thank you, for whatever it was you did. I shouldn't have behaved as if what you did was insignificant, as if I didn't notice it was thanks to you. My priorities weren't in the order they should have been."

Alphonse actually looked at him in a stunned manner. "How often do you apologize to people?"

"I can count the number on one hand." Scar frowned, "why?"

"Because I've never heard anyone apologize like that before." Alphonse replied, looking shocked still. "Never heard anyone go into that much detail before."

Scar's frown was wanting to turn into a glare, but he did his best to control it. "I may as well make it worth my time to say the words once properly, instead of having you claiming I didn't mean it at all."

Alphonse slowly nodded once before turning back to his rummaging. "Thank you for the apology. I'm really happy it worked." And he was, because now it meant he had leverage for staying longer.

Which seemed positively insane, wanting to stay longer with a man who'd strangled him until he'd begun to slip into unconsciousness and a panic induced coma, and who'd grabbed his head like that. Scar really probably thought he'd deserved it, and maybe he had… but he had to believe there was a line somewhere that shouldn't be crossed. And if it wasn't drawn between strangulation and psychological trauma, he feared to know where it was.

And yet he wanted to stay longer. It sounded like suicide to his ears, but it was what he wanted.

Scar watched from the doorway until it became clear Alphonse wasn't intending to speak to him again, so he turned without another word and made his way to the kitchen in between looking down to stare at his arms. "Damn brat is going to use this in his favor, I just know it." He muttered under his breath. But he was determined that under no circumstances, would Alphonse be staying.

In hindsight he'd come to realize that stubbornness was a quality permanently engraved into the Elric bloodline.

Alphonse finished throwing away everything in Scar's bathroom that he never wanted to see again, before he looked into the mirror. He grimaced at the sight of himself. His hair was disheveled, there were fading red outlines of Scar's fingers and hand on his neck, his shirt was twisted out of shape in the front – probably permanently now, and his eyes still had a bright look to them that he would have associated with a deer that had somehow escaped the rifle.

"Damnit." Alphonse slammed his hands to the counter, his head bowing forward as his eyes screwed shut.

It was all his own fault. He'd fallen asleep. He'd had no time to prepare for Scar's possible ideas of vengeance, no time to brace himself before the man as he had last night. And he hated feeling wary now of Scar's touch… but he did. And for his own sanity, until he sorted his nerves back out, he couldn't let Scar touch him. It was what he had to do, as much as he despised himself for feeling weak.

"I guess I do have one thing I should apologize for too." He whispered and looked up again into the mirror. A few quick strokes of his fingers through his hair sorted the disheveled mess out at least acceptably, and he turned to go in search of the man.

He found Scar in the kitchen, looking to be cooking something on a two-burner stove that he hadn't thought actually worked. And he stopped about halfway between the farthest wall and Scar before he spoke.

"I won't apologize for drugging you."

Scar turned at the sudden words, surprised, for he hadn't heard Alphonse approach.

"But," Alphonse met the scarlet gaze determinedly, "I am sorry for not giving you a choice. I did what I thought would be the best for us both. That's all I have to say for it."

Scar was silent a time before he turned away, back to his cooking. "You may stay until tonight on the condition that you do give me a choice from now on. I may not choose what you would have, but if I'm going to trust your choices as the person treating me right now, you should trust mine as the patient."

Alphonse knew that was only fair, but any other reaction he might have made was washed aside with a burst of delight. "Our deal's back on?"

"Yes." Scar sighed, "though I imagine I'll regret it."

Alphonse scowled from where he still stood.

Scar glanced over his shoulder, his eyes never quite reaching Alphonse. "But I'm tossing you out afterwards." And added quite firmly, "_nothing_ will make me reconsider. If I find you still here by tomorrow morning, I'll do worse than I did earlier."

Alphonse took a bracing breath then, knowing he couldn't waste anymore time. "Then let me finish cooking. You go get cleaned up so I can begin again." And walking over purposefully he took the spatula that the man had been using straight out of his hand.

Scar relinquished it from surprise only before he registered what had happened. And he was about to argue, and snatch back what was his, before he thought better of it. Their deal _was_ back on after all, and that meant his cooperation. "Don't burn my eggs." He warned.

"I won't burn your stupid eggs." Alphonse glared at him, "what do you take me for, an idiot?"

Scar gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Well…"

Alphonse turned to the eggs with a huff. "Go clean yourself up." And when he heard the clacking of Scar's cane beginning to fade, he turned around abruptly. "And I'm _not_ an idiot for caring about what happens to you. Even if you sometimes frighten me. You saved my life."

Scar paused, about to disappear entirely from view. "Again, you've got an imposing way of thanking someone."

"Why did you save my life?" Alphonse asked softly, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to be heard and discover the answer. "Was it just because you were that selfless, or was it something else?"

Scar looked back at Alphonse then, seeing the young man watching him apprehensively, before he merely turned and walked away.

How exactly was he supposed to put into words without giving that brat any more leverage with which to try and wield against him – though ineffective it all would become in the end – that out of all the lives he had saved in his past, Alphonse's had meant the most to him?

The truth was that he _wasn't_ that selfless. There had been only two people he ever would have considered dying for. And _she_ no longer counted. Because in the end, it had been Alphonse that he hadn't just jumped in front of like some bad script for a martyr. He'd actually _done_ something significant to save him.

And it had worked… and clearly they'd both made it, for whatever making it was worth.

But how could he honestly tell Alphonse any of that?

Scar shook his head and continued into his bathroom, shutting himself in. "He's going to drive me insane until I kick him out in nine hours." He groaned to himself and began shedding clothes so he could have a bath. All the while marveling at the change in his arms and hands, and wondering just what the hell it was that Alphonse had done to elicit such a quick and mostly healthy appearing change.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Alphonse was turning off the heat for the burner that the eggs had been cooking on.

Two plates later he was finished separating out the share of eggs, giving Scar more not because the man was his patient and needed to eat, but because he wasn't feeling too hungry after his violent awakening. The thought of eating made him feel nauseous, but he knew he needed to. So more for himself, than Scar, he made them both some toast using his alchemy to heat the bread. He figured that it would help settle his stomach while he ate.

He brought the two plates to the rickety table and set them down before slumping into the only chair and letting his head fall into one hand. This morning's discovery of Scar's improved health was yet another erasing of a lingering doubt that he possessed part of Scar's soul. And that was an accomplishment he had to be relieved and proud of. For he felt it just might have bought him the renewal of their deal. Otherwise? He wasn't sure where he'd be sitting now, or in what condition.

"I think I'm a believer, Holly… but next time, you drug him."


	5. Chapter 5

Cheru-chan: Well you may not look so psychotic with this chapter XP. Love you really hehehe. And yeah, that last line rather sums the chapter up nicely I'd say, I agree with Al very much.

accident prone: Scar does have his violent tendencies. But yes, Al rather is a little badass. He's sweet, so you don't expect it of him, but underneath it all he's got some badassery.

Sailor Silver Rose: I think Al learned his lesson, if he didn't I doubt Scar would be any sort of pleased.

Hikari Kura: Scar really has no chance of getting Al to leave him alone. It's a battle lost before it began. And yay! Cookies!

GreedxEd: Scar trying to escape wouldn't do him much good XD.

Sonar: I did have a bunch of fun writing that chapter. I love scenes like that... no clue why.

GWings: Sadistic Scar really is scary, he'd give me nightmares. It's a good thing I have Al on my side.

xLacrimosa: Yay! The pairing is growing on you! Feeeel the growth, love the growth, embrace them! XD And getting pinched there really will bring a man to his knees... I won a karate match using it -snickers-

Aya-chan: A lot of people haven't really thought about this pairing much, so you're not alone. But join us! My secret desire pairing is now being unleashed! But you are welcome, I'm happy to share it.

MandaxPanda: Yes, Scar is getting all sorts of better. He should thank Al properly... -daydreams-

Brokhen Windu: Thank you! And strange isn't it, how many go 'sex- _liiiittle_ bit of relationship- more sex', I prefer this way. Scar and Al deserve it.

* * *

There's a bit of after-fight fluff this chapter, I never saw Al as one to wallow too long, and so my fluff muse was happy with that. And I've come to the realization that I've spent my entire free time today writing Scar/Al. Not purely for this fic, but for others too. I guess I better get some other pairings in tonight before they start holding a mutiny against me.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! ... even if it's not as death threat action packed as the last one XD

* * *

Chapter Five

Scar was finally toweling off after a bath that had taken far longer than even a bath in his childhood. He blamed it on his fascination with his healing arms and hands, and had taken extra care in making sure they were clean. He wasn't sure what miracle Alphonse had worked, but it had _worked_. Sure, there was still a lot to be improved, but he hadn't been pain free since he'd earned the wounds. But of the many things he didn't understand about how this swift of a change had come about, one thing kept bothering him the most.

This degree of change in such a short space of time should have been impossible with _any_ medicine. It was almost as if all at once, all those years spent in fruitless toil trying to heal himself had been collected upon. As if years of healing had suddenly been jumpstarted into a single night.

But he couldn't understand how.

Unless…

Scar shook his head, it should be impossible. He'd know if he'd given Alphonse a piece of his soul! But after everything… Alphonse knowing about his notes, and now this? It was beginning to be the only thing that made any sense.

Was it possible that a split soul would also have an effect on his ability to heal? And that just by being near him, Alphonse's mere presence would act like its own form of healing?

"_Don't worry, the shock factor does start fading."_

Scar quite nearly grimaced as those words came back to him. And he knew that the only way to believe what Alphonse claimed, was to see for himself what happened today. If there were any more unnaturally fast improvements… well, he might just have to reevaluate that it was ridiculous.

But he was beginning to find himself curious of just how Alphonse had reacted to this idea, for he did recall something about a friend telling Alphonse that this was what had happened. He tried not to notice that he chuckled at the thought of how the blond might have reacted… so far his own reaction hadn't exactly been welcoming.

Hanging his towel back up to dry, Scar went in search of clothes. He found some that he was fairly certain were clean and pulled them on before going in search of the squatter in his home and his breakfast.

He found said squatter sitting in his chair at the table, granted it was the _only_ chair, but still. "You're in my seat, move." He ordered absently as he tapped his way over, leaning on his cane.

Alphonse's head jerked up out of his hand, and he was startled more by the fact that he'd been dozing off, than Scar's reappearance that he hadn't heard for the very reason of his dozing off. "What?" He questioned, not really having heard.

"Up." Scar directed firmly as he reached Alphonse's side and hovered impatiently, not taking his eyes from the caramel blond.

"Oh, right." Alphonse quickly shook himself a bit more awake and stood, grabbing his plate of now cold food which he'd not had a chance to touch before he'd kept dozing off. He didn't argue about moving, he didn't really expect that Scar would give up his only chair. And besides, even if he had, Alphonse wouldn't have let him. Not when Scar was using a cane, for whatever reason.

Scar would admit he was surprised, he hadn't thought Alphonse would give in that easily. It was certainly a change from the stubborn battle of wills from before. But he sank into his seat without complaint, turning his attention now to his breakfast. "If only you were as obedient as you are good at making eggs."

"I'll try and see that as a compliment." Alphonse muttered darkly as he settled onto the floor with his plate.

Scar glanced down at him, to where Alphonse sat merely a few feet to his side, but said nothing as he watched the blond absently poke with a fork at a small circle of scrambled eggs on a plate that dwarfed the amount of food, even with a slice of toast added.

Alphonse winced as his stomach gave an unsettled flop that threatened to make him nauseous. Abandoning his fork he picked up the piece of dry toast and forcing himself every bit of the way lifted it to his mouth where he then forced himself to take a small bite.

Scar was still watching as Alphonse barely seemed to chew, discomfort clearly written in his expression. It didn't look like Alphonse was in pain, not that he should care, but still he watched the blond closely even as he absently ate his eggs.

Alphonse swallowed his first small mouthful, feeling only a minor burn of pain when it went past the memory of his strangulation. After the first bite of toast, it was easier to get more down. But it didn't make him feel any more pleasant to do so. And each new mouthful only made his throat twinge more. After the toast was down it was easier to try stomaching the eggs, and luckily they didn't seem to cause him so much discomfort upon swallowing, but it still took every bit of determination he had to eat and keep eating.

"Are you pregnant?" Scar asked at last, lazily.

Alphonse jerked his head up in surprise to frown at the man. "Are you actually expecting an intelligent answer to that, or would you rather I just be sarcastic?"

Scar smirked, but it soon faded. "You've been picking at your food like a pregnant woman."

"I'm not exactly accustomed to people hurting me and then scaring me like that." Alphonse looked back down and stabbed another piece of egg. "My throat hurts and my nerves are still rattled. It makes it difficult to eat."

Scar opened his mouth to retort that Alphonse had deserved it, before he shut it again. He'd already made his feelings known on that matter, and Alphonse clearly hadn't been planning on saying anything unless directly asked. He wasn't complaining, just being honest. And there was a difference that Scar could appreciate.

He finished his own breakfast, leaving Alphonse in peace to struggle with finishing his own before he stood up to take his plate to the sink. And while it took some juggling with his cane, he managed to pull down two chipped cups from a cabinet as well as get a pot of water on to boil.

Alphonse paid the man no mind as he continued to work on finishing his breakfast. At least, he didn't pay him any mind until Scar was coming towards him about ten minutes later. He looked up then, surprise filling his eyes as Scar offered down a cup of something that was steaming. "Revenge?" He asked uncertainly as he reached up to take the cup gingerly.

Scar smirked in appreciation for the idea, but shook his head and turned to make his way back to the counter for his own cup. "I believe you were punished already for that. Drink. It'll help."

"Help with what?" Alphonse asked, still suspicious even as he sipped tentatively on the liquid he now knew as tea – peppermint tea to be exact, with the faintest hint of honey and lavender.

Scar didn't meet Alphonse's eyes as he walked back to his chair with his own cup in one hand, cane in the other. "Your nerves… and your throat."

Alphonse nearly dropped the cup at that admission, and stared at Scar with wide eyes. "But why would you try and help me?"

Scar glanced down at his arms for the briefest moment, saying, "your methods may have been punishable, but your results earned you some tea. So drink." And he was glad when Alphonse did, and didn't question him further, for he wanted nothing more than to continue convincing himself that he hadn't done it out of any flash of guilt or that unwanted thought that maybe he'd stepped over the line with everything he'd done.

Alphonse could only sip on his tea, luxuriating in the feel of the warm liquid soothing his throat, and the smell of the herbs that were doing a great deal to calm him. And every so often he'd glance up at Scar, feeling little twinges of happiness.

No… Scar didn't want to kill him.

Once Alphonse was done with his tea he was feeling far better than he had all morning, and he eased himself up off the floor to carry the dishes to the sink before turning to address Scar who seemed to be staring at the wall. "I'm ready when you are."

Scar shook himself out of his thoughts as he gripped his cane and stood up with its aid. "Then let's start."

Alphonse followed the man back into the bedroom, and as Scar sat on the mattress he knelt down before him, holding out two beckoning hands. It took only a moment for Scar to willingly offer out his right arm, and Alphonse took hold of it gently.

"It really is looking better." Alphonse murmured as he looked it over first. Yes… he was a believer now. The evidence was in front of him and in his hands. Nothing else could explain the fast change, other than the fact that Scar's entire soul was now, in some form, together again. The man's ability to heal properly again was back with vengeance, and Alphonse was left wondering just how much of it had been the medicine, and how much of it had been his being here now.

But that was far too romanticized an idea to be courting now.

Scar's body had been waiting all this time to heal again, and it was making up for lost time in leaps and bounds. And Alphonse smiled faintly with the thrill of success and the knowledge that he'd be able to sleep properly again as he ran a light touch over the fragile, new skin.

"Does it hurt at all?" Alphonse asked, looking up into Scar's eyes as he continued to run careful fingers along some of the marks, applying only the gentlest pressure.

Scar shook his head as he looked back into the amber eyes, eyes that looked less wild after that cup of tea. "It feels tender, but there's no pain."

Alphonse nodded absently, offering a short smile before he looked back down, moving his touches now to one of the scabbed portions which he believed had once been those oozing pus. "And here?" He asked, lightly pressing down as he moved his fingers.

"Faintly." Scar replied, barely noticing what small fissures of pain there were. To his great confusion and slight alarm, he was relaxing under Alphonse's touch to the degree he barely noticed what pain existed.

"Thought it might." Alphonse murmured and laid his palm flat against one of the more inflamed areas around one of the scabs. "There's still a bit of infection. The problem with it scabbing over so fast is that I wasn't able to get all the infection out before it did so."

Scar tilted his head slightly, "experience taking care of your brother's injuries?"

Alphonse chuckled softly, raising his eyes to meet scarlet ones once more. "You could say that."

"So what strange concoction are you going to give me for this infection?" Scar asked with an arching brow, trying to make Alphonse feel unsettled… though he didn't realize at that moment that his intentions for wanting that were not for cruel purposes, but merely meant to tease.

Alphonse blushed slightly but held Scar's gaze with an iron determination, and answered, quite frankly, "I'll have to cut your arm open and bleed it out of you. Where's a knife?"

Scar was thrown off balance by the statement, and was considering strangling Alphonse again for such a barbaric idea before the blond burst into laughter. Which threw him even more until he realized it… Alphonse had been teasing him. "Why you little minx…"

Alphonse burst into fresh laughter, though it was more contained as he couldn't help but grin at Scar. "Sorry, you should have seen the look on your face!" And he tried to stifle his laughter in the hand he'd taken from lying flat on Scar's arm. "I nearly got killed right now, didn't I?" He chuckled into his hand, still watching Scar with amber eyes that sparkled in amusement.

"I'm giving you less lavender in your tea next time." Scar growled at the laughing blond before him. "And yes, you nearly did. Only you Elrics eventually laugh in the face of death."

Alphonse's laughter quieted until he was only smiling up at Scar. "Remind me not to laugh too much just yet. It kind of hurts."

"I'm all for insisting that you get less amusement of that sort at my expense." Scar replied with a bit of a smirk, it was hard to stay unaffected by Alphonse's good mood. It seemed that the blond was recovering his nerves quite well now.

Alphonse gave one last bubble of a laugh before he turned his attention back to Scar's arm, and ran the hand not supporting the man's forearm back down Scar's arm until he reached the man's palm where his fingers stopped. "No, I'll put something else on that which should help draw it out. It won't hurt going on, but it's going to be sticky and messy, so you'll have to stay still so it doesn't get on your clothes."

"Any side-effects you want to tell me about now?" Scar prompted as he stared at Alphonse's fingers resting against his palm.

"None." Alphonse answered with a slight frown. "As for the rest of it, it needs to stay soft while you grow some more skin over it. No, I think you're done with anything that would make you angry with me."

Scar nodded slowly, though Alphonse wasn't looking at him. He was looking at his hand. "I won't hurt you, Alphonse. Not unless I feel threatened somehow. And you drugging me… would you have liked it if I had done it to you?"

Alphonse closed his eyes with an emotionally strained sigh. "Situational morality. I apologized for not giving you a choice, but I did what I thought was right. As did you when you put all those souls in me, including a part of your own, even if it was not consciously done. You never asked me, you did what you thought was right. Sometimes that's all we can expect."

"You're still alive because of what I did." Scar reminded him, "I didn't think I needed to ask to save your life."

"Maybe when you believe the truth of my having a part of your soul, and what it means for the rest of our lives, you'll understand where I'm coming from." Alphonse replied quietly and let go of the arm he'd been holding to pick up the other one and begin looking it over.

Scar watched in silence for some time, mulling over what Alphonse meant. He was still on the fence about believing what he was being told… but even so he could begin to paint the picture for himself. If Alphonse truly did have a part of his soul, depending how much the blond had, he'd tied his life to Alphonse's permanently. And that was the broadest scope of the situation that he could thus far see, not even looking yet at the other details that he knew with more certainty. "Are you angry that it could have happened?"

"It did happen." Alphonse replied without pause of thought as he finally drew away to reach over for one of the items sitting on the floor still as part of his miniature chemists lab. "But no, I'm not angry. At first I was frustrated, and annoyed, and maybe a lot of it was because I haven't had a proper night of sleep in a dangerously long time. But I'm not angry."

"I'd be offended," Scar gave him a wry look, "if I didn't understand how you probably felt."

"Understand that up until those dreams, I never had doubts that you were dead. In a way," Alphonse looked into crimson eyes again, "it's like you came back from the dead. And while I know I should be accustomed to weird things like that, it never fails to emotionally effect me in some way. Coming to terms with the idea that I was possibly keeping you alive, that you might still be alive, and then _finding_ you alive… it's been… hard, for me, these past few days."

Scar believed he could understand that. He'd always courted the thought that Alphonse had survived, but never once had he wondered what Alphonse thought had become of him. So while personally he couldn't understand what the young man might have gone through, he _did_ understand. There was no conceivable way that saving a life as he had done wouldn't have left an impression on the one who'd been saved. Whereas the savior didn't always feel that connection.

Alphonse didn't say anything as he raised his hands to Scar's left shirtsleeve – it had been cut off near the elbow, probably to prevent it from bothering the bandages – and began to roll it up a bit higher so he'd have more access, then did the same to the other sleeve. Neither time did Scar question his actions.

That done, Alphonse reached over to grab the first thing he needed and scooped his fingers into the sticky mess to retrieve a large yellow glob of his latest treatment. And he tried not to chuckle as Scar gave it a wary look. "It melts and will come off easily in hot water." He reassured and reached up to Scar's arm. "Just stay still."

Scar hissed in a breath at the first touch of the sticky goo which he now recognized as being _cold_. "Couldn't have warmed it?" He growled as he restrained himself from moving.

Alphonse smirked and only continued, not phased in the least. "That would make a really big mess. Just sit still, and maybe the nurse will give you a lollipop."

"Shut up." Scar grouched, but his tone lacked any real venom. He supposed he _was_ getting used to the temperature.

Alphonse merely smiled as he continued to work. Talking was distracting him anyway, and he really didn't want to mess up, knowing what Scar would probably see fit to do. The nicest of which being throwing him out on his collective ear.

It took him a while, as it had before, but this time he was working with a patient who was quite awake and aware of what was happening. And Alphonse was surprised that Scar's staring at him didn't unnerve him as it should have.

And after quite some time Alphonse had finally finished smearing Scar with all variety of things. He didn't bother trying to wash off the sticky mess on his fingers, merely lifted his other arm and rubbed his fingers vigorously against it, causing the substances to heat and absorb into his skin quickly. At least he'd have soft skin later.

Wordlessly Alphonse reached for the gauze bandages and deftly began to wrap each arm and its respective hand in turn as Scar held it up and steady for him. He made fast work of it before sitting back on his heels to observe his handiwork.

"Does it all feel secure?" He asked, not raising his gaze to Scar's face.

Scar made a face as he flexed his arms a bit, wiggling his hands back and forth. "Yeah, but this stuff feels weird."

"It'll feel fine in a few hours. You won't even notice." Alphonse replied and gave a bit of a smile. "And then tonight we'll see how it's all coming along." And reaching up he carefully unrolled Scar's shirtsleeves so that they lay properly again.

"And what are the doctor's orders until then?" Scar asked with a stretch and a wince. He'd been sitting down and not moving for what was probably nearly an hour.

Alphonse turned to start cleaning up even as he replied. "I've got one more question for you… maybe more."

"And that is?" Scar queried uncertainly, and scratched at the back of his neck.

"What is the cane for? I haven't noticed you favoring either of your legs."

Scar glanced down at the cane reflexively. "Ah, that." And he reached down to grip the handle and pull it nearer to him. "I do a good job of hiding it then. It's something that happened after I saved you. During my run for it, you were already gone, I fell and tore one of the ligaments in my knee. I never thought it healed properly…" he trailed off as he thought about it, "except now that you're here I've noticed I'm not leaning on the cane every time I need to use that leg."

Alphonse's concern coupled with a twinge of amusement as he tried not to smile. "You fell down?"

"Alphonse…" Scar growled warningly.

He quickly held his hands up in a gesture of submission. "Only clarifying." And he allowed himself a hasty chuckle as he lowered them again. "Want me to do something about that as well?"

"I doubt it causes me any pain that would keep you up at night." Scar rolled his eyes, and looked down at the leg in question, his left.

"You'd be surprised." Alphonse remarked but didn't pursue it. "Just know that if it does start invading my sleep again, I'll be at your doorstep once more."

"I can always move." Scar suggested as he watched Alphonse continue to clean up.

"It wouldn't matter." Alphonse shrugged impartially. "Not only would I see the area you're in through your eyes, but even when you were in the bath earlier I could feel whatever magnetic pull exists between us tugging me in the direction you were. I think I've always known where you were since the dreams started, even if the pull faded into the background over time spent outside of the dreams. But here with you now I know the direction you're in every second that you seem to be away from me more than perhaps," Alphonse tilted his head in thought, "fifteen feet? And it doesn't gradually fade."

Scar knew his mouth was slightly agape, why had Alphonse never mentioned _this_ before?! "You always know where I am?"

"Not _exactly_ where." Alphonse corrected, "but the general direction. The closer I got to you when I was looking for you, the more definitive the pull felt. Your soul was calling out to me then, is the best I understand it. And it still must be, else I can't think of any reason that I would have been aware of your location when you were in the bath."

"It'll go away though," Scar said firmly, trying to convince himself more than Alphonse, "after the dreams stop and this soul business goes dormant again – _if it exists_ – you'd have no idea where I was?"

"Such is my thinking, as I never felt it before the dreams started." Alphonse smirked at him though. "But if the dreams start again because of your leg, then it becomes pointless to try and hide from me."

Scar groaned deeply, though he'd deny that he had, and his head was eased down into one bandaged hand.

Alphonse smiled knowingly at the man. "It gets easier the more you begin to accept what happened. I looked like you do only a few days ago."

Scar cracked open two fingers to peer through them at the blond who just sat there watching him, looking at ease once again and smiling. Oddly enough, it made _him_ feel more relaxed as well. "I'll take my chances that it'll heal, and we'll never need see each other again."

Alphonse's lips drew into a thin line as he stood up. "You take your chances, just make sure that the next town you try and hide from me in you have a table with two chairs." And he cast Scar a halfhearted smile as he turned to go use the bathroom.

Scar took his hand away from his face, watching the closed door that Alphonse was now behind. With a bit of a disgruntled breath he looked down at his bandaged arms and wondered… "accept it, huh?" And his lips took on a bit of a grimace as they tugged into a slight smile. "That's grim for me any way you slice it. Either it's not true, and…" but for the life of him, he couldn't grasp the reasons why it might not be.

So far the deck was stacked against him, and he had two options. Fold, or keep betting… and thus far losing.

"If it's true…" Scar gave a mirthless burst of a laugh and turned his gaze heavenward, "I'll never truly be rid of him."


	6. Chapter 6

Hikari Kura: Scar will be happy one of these days that he's stuck with Al... until then he gets to be adorable in his denial and potential lethal retaliation for being called adorable.

Sailor Silver Rose: Not getting rid of Al is a very good thing... Al is the perfect one to convince him of it though, Scar doesn't stand a chance. Elrics are stubborn.

Brokhen Windu: Well thank you. Heck, bringing you over to thinking that Scar and Al make a good couple is success enough in my book, but Ed and Roy too? That merits me baking myself brownies. Thanks.

anmb: You weren't the only one thinking smutty in the non-smutty parts... I myself will admit to blame, considering I know I get a few wicked grins while writing things that really could go both ways XD.

GWings: Accepting it immediately would make it easier on him, but... I'm not that nice XD. And oh dear, Scar and Ed? They really would kill each other. It wouldn't be a strangling, it'd be a stabbing.

GreedxEd: I must have missed the part where I ever planned to get Al pregnant. What were you drinking that night? And can I have some?

accident prone: Scar does do reluctantance very well as a characterization... for some reason he's just humorous at it. We're used to him being so gung-ho, but I like to think it's Al's influence that can give him more levels.

MandaxPanda: Yes! Playful banter is fun. Sure beats me writing psychological torment stuff... which is good too, but a whole chapter of it probably would have molested the genres.

Nana-Riiko: Oh don't worry, there have been plenty of people wary at first. You're in good company. I'm so happy that you're enjoying it now!

Cheru-chan: Now you've got me intrigued with your thoughts-to-make-a-sailor-blush... darn you. And Scar/Al is not a bad addiction to have.

Kari Kurofai: Right now he finds that sort of truth more headache inducing than blissful.

Cesaree: Thank you, I'm so glad my Alphonse is coming across so well. I really love him as a character, so he's worth the effort. And yes, Scar is definitely realizing that Al is worth getting to know... at least in such a way that he hasn't killed him yet.

Insanity: Thank you! And I shall.

* * *

Well my technical difficulties are about halfway fixed now... and since it's been over a month, straight to the update.

I'm having trouble recalling what amusing thing happened to me recently that would be amusing enough for everyone to actually read through before racing to what I know you're really here for.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Six

When Alphonse exited the bathroom he found the mattress devoid of Scar. In fact, the entire room was empty of the man. He paused for a moment until he heard the light tapping of the cane out in the other room, and felt the pull between them reassure him that Scar seemed to be in the direction of the kitchen.

As long as the man didn't run off outside... Alphonse wasn't sure how easy it would be to drag him back.

It wasn't as if Scar really needed to go anywhere, so for today he didn't feel the least bit bad about wanting to keep the man inside. All the time of seeing through Scar's eyes had revealed to him that the most productive thing the man did now was drink alcohol. He could give it up for a day or so in the pursuit of healing.

Walking over to the mattress he knelt down beside it and rummaged with the thin sheet to find the zipper that apparently kept the mattress sealed. He had to half remove the bedding, such as it was, to do so, but find it he did.

A few hearty tugs got the zipper moving, and Alphonse eased it down and around carefully until he could spot the corners of papers beneath the mattress casing. Carefully he reached in and grabbed all that he could find by touch and pulled them out.

He felt only a flicker of surprised satisfaction that he'd been right, and that he recognized some of these immediately just as they were. And with a bit of a wry smile he fanned them out around him, trying to keep them in what seemed to be a rough chronological order.

It was like that, that Scar reentered the room and found him.

"You better put my mattress back as it was by the time I'm ready to kick you out."

Alphonse didn't even glance up at him. "Don't get your boxer briefs in a twist. You're not completely helpless yourself you know."

Scar snorted and tapped his way over to peer down at the papers from where he hovered now over Alphonse's shoulder. "Anything important, or are you just snooping now?"

"It's all important," Alphonse replied calmly, "important because it chronicles to me the extent of your stupidity at self-treatment. I can hold this over your head the next time something happens to you, because I can bet that you'll try and self-medicate just to piss me off because you'll know I can't sleep."

"Give me a list of what _you'd_ recommend then." Scar rolled his eyes, and then with the beginnings of alarm, "and how do you know what type of underwear I wear?!"

Alphonse looked up at him with a deadpan expression and an arched eyebrow. "Well if you didn't look down when you were getting dressed or doing your laundry I wouldn't, now would I? Not that I have anything against them, they're supportive and I've… well… you need the support unless you want to _really_ be sagging when you're sixty." He flushed and shook his head quickly to clear all thoughts of Scar's endowments. "Anyway…"

Scar was blanking out as he watched Alphonse's mouth move in what he assumed was an answer to his other question. He was still too shocked trying to process that Alphonse seemed to have seen quite a lot more than he'd previously thought in those dreams of his. The slight pinking of Alphonse's cheeks had been clue enough.

And had Alphonse slipped in a thinly veiled comment about his… Scar shook his head in bewilderment while feeling just a bit violated.

Alphonse looked up again when Scar made no reply, and sighing as he saw the look on the man's face he raised a hand to snap his fingers several times in quick succession until the partially glazed look was wiped off Scar's face and was quickly replaced by one that foreboded an incoming burst of outrage unless he headed it off. "It's not like I was able to choose what I saw." He berated him as gently as he dared. "I was just answering your question… with complete honesty. Not that I'd have needed to see to guess if I was so inclined to perversion." He waved a hand at the man in general reference. "The rest of you is fairly large too."

By now, Alphonse had turned from slightly pink, to a healthy shade of red.

Scar blinked at him, incredulity rising inside of him to oddly enough, override his immediate vie for anger at the intrusion to his privacy. Because in the back of his mind he knew that Alphonse was right, he wasn't able to choose what he saw. And in a dream, he couldn't look away. "I think I'll be getting dressed with my eyes always up from now on."

Alphonse felt his blush latch in for a tighter hold, and he ducked his head though he knew it would do no good. Scar had already seen. "Hopefully I won't be seeing anything else after your arms and such are completely healed."

"Still." Scar growled, and then determined to get the topic steered back away from his bits, he shook his head slightly to try and clear his mind. "Now what were you saying you'd recommend since you seem so keen to call me stupid at self-treatment?"

Alphonse was grateful for the change of topic, and that Scar wasn't bashing him over the head right now with the cane for what he'd unintentionally seen. "You are." He assured the man flatly, and feeling the glare, quickly continued. "First of all, don't you _ever_ use those shots again. Ever."

"Yes, I got that part already." Scar scowled down his nose at him.

Alphonse merely lifted an eyebrow in response to the look. "Hopefully it sank in. Now, as for your other methods? You can't rely on just an analgesic paste with a few healing herbs thrown in at the _end_ of the ingredients label to cure much of anything. I looked through your supplies, remember, I saw how lacking you were. So wipe that scowl off your face and sit down so I stop getting a crick in my neck. It's already hurting still from you strangling me, I'd rather not give it any more grief at your expense."

Scar only doubled his scowl just for spite, but did sit.

"Good." Alphonse then tapped the papers in front of him. "Pay attention now, and maybe any other medical notes you have to write for yourself won't be as thick with things doomed to fail. I'm about to give you the crash course in herbs that my friend gave to me before coming here. And I know you can find them out here as well, so you've no excuse."

"Just get on with it." Scar pressed him while fighting the urge to whack the young man upside the head. Yes, Alphonse had recovered his nerves nicely… he'd forgotten just how willful the caramel-blond could be when he put his mind to it.

By the time Alphonse had finished with his explanations and imparting of information, he was secretly pleased by the pained look on Scar's face as the man battled with what appeared to be a headache of trying to take everything in. And as he waited for Scar to pull himself together, he grabbed up all of Scar's notes and stacked them together neatly again before turning to slip them back into the mattress.

He was replacing the bedding when Scar finally spoke.

"Have you ever felt my pain? In these dreams?"

Alphonse's head whipped around, and he stared at Scar through guarded eyes a long moment before saying, "not exactly. But after I wake up from them, depending on what I saw… take for instance ones that involved you being in pain. All the dreams make me toss and turn, but those ones I wake up clammy from. Kind of like a fever just broke, but I was never sick to begin with."

"So they do affect you then." Scar stated.

"Yes." Alphonse shrugged his shoulders a bit. "They're different from any other dream I used to have. Even nightmares. I've not had any normal sleep at all since this started… what sleep I've had. But they do affect me uniquely."

Scar slowly nodded, his hands fiddling with the cane that was balanced across his crossed legs. "Good."

Alphonse frowned at him as he paused in his straightening of the sheet.

Catching the look, Scar quickly explained. "Not good that you're affected. Believe me, I do not like the thought that you've been joyriding in my head to sightsee through my own eyes. Even more so that it seems to allow you to always know generally where I am. But, I'm glad you never felt the pain I was in." And his eyes darted between his cane and Alphonse several times in rapid succession. "I wouldn't have wanted you to be in pain like that because of me."

Alphonse was silent a moment, mouth slightly open as he let that sink in. And as Scar continued to refuse to meet his eyes, seemingly now occupied by glaring at his cane, he smiled faintly. "Careful, Scar… you might make me think you actually still care about what happens to me."

Scar did look up at him then, red eyes narrowing slightly before he suddenly righted his cane and used it to hoist himself quickly to his feet. "Don't flatter yourself with the thought. I'm just not cold-hearted. And you're still leaving tonight, even if I have to toss you out myself."

"That's so generous of you to offer your assistance so readily." Alphonse rolled his eyes.

Scar huffed and turned to stalk from the room while muttering something about making lunch. Alphonse watched him go before shaking his head wearily and busied himself organizing some things that were still laid out from his treating of Scar earlier. And once he had finished he sat there on the floor, debating about going to see what Scar was cooking, or just staying right where he was – it wasn't comfortable, but he was tired and movement was a chore to even think about.

He never actually came to a decision himself, nor did he remember his eyes closing of their own accord. But the thump as he hit the floor sideways in a deep sleep was answer enough.

Out in the kitchen, Scar had finally finished cooking the pork chops and steaming the broccoli. He was not used to cooking for two, and was not happy that it had taken longer as he'd had to wait for one chop to finish in the pan before adding another, but finish he did.

And still he'd seen not a trace of Alphonse.

Something that suited him just fine, but he did have to wonder what the brat was up to staying so long in his bedroom. He had better not be rooting through anything else.

"Alphonse!" He barked as he worked on filling two plates with the food – making sure the smallest amount went to the temporary squatter he was allowing into his home. "Get out here or I'll eat your food too!"

But when he had finished filling the plates, and had walked his own over to the table, and yet there was still no sign of the young man, Scar grumbled under his breath several unkind remarks about making invalids walk around needlessly as he turned to make his way back to the bedroom to see what the hell Alphonse was up to.

Scar stopped dead in his tracks, blinking once in surprise as he saw Alphonse lying there on the floor. If asked later, he'd never admit to the way his heart had seemed to falter and jump into his throat as he suddenly rushed forward, his cane clattering to the floor as he fell to his knees beside Alphonse and instantly grabbed one wrist to feel for a pulse.

Only to realize soon after that Alphonse was actually asleep.

He'd also never admit to the relief that flooded him before he suddenly became annoyed and dropped the wrist. "Who said you could take a nap?" He grouched, but sighed.

Shaking his head, and silently daring Alphonse to say anything about it when he woke up, he reached over the sleeping body to grab his blanket from his mattress and drape it over his personal tormenter. The blanket, while barely big enough for himself, dwarfed the smaller form of Alphonse. And then reaching again, he seized the pillow and gently lifted Alphonse's head enough to stick the pillow under it.

It was the best he could do, he wasn't about to try lifting him onto the mattress and risk his bandages becoming mussed. He doubted Alphonse would do anything but scowl at him for it despite the act that had caused it. And while he knew he shouldn't care if Alphonse were to get upset with him… he didn't try for the mattress.

"You better hope I don't eat your share of food too." He grumbled as he grabbed his cane and stood back up. "Troublesome brat that you are. I'll be glad when you're gone."

And that said, he turned to go find his lunch and leave Alphonse to the sleep he knew that the young man probably needed more than food. Besides, he was much more bearable when he was asleep – quiet and unguarded… but mostly quiet.

Several hours passed before Alphonse even began to stir. But he did not awaken immediately.

It was not until he slowly became aware that he was warm and everything but his head seemed to feel sore that his eyes suddenly opened wide. The shock that he'd fallen asleep didn't even register for very long as he realized why he felt warm… and why everything but his head felt sore.

The floor was definitely not made for sleeping on.

Alphonse shot up into a seated position as he quickly looked about the room, finding it empty. The thin blanket slipped from his shoulders to pool around his waist, and he glanced down at it, and then over to the pillow with nothing short of surprised amazement in his eyes.

But… _why_?

Clearly Scar had come in here and found him sleeping. But what he couldn't understand was why the man had actually blanketed and given him a pillow instead of prodding him awake with the end of his cane. It seemed the more logical thing for him to do considering the only other type of treatment he'd had at Scar's hands when it came to him being asleep.

Still blinking rather owlishly, he carefully moved both blanket and pillow back onto the mattress before scrambling a bit stiffly to his feet. With a groan and a stretch to try and rid his muscles of the damage the hard floor had done to them, he then pulled his lower lip between his teeth a moment pensively before heading off to find Scar.

What he found was a plate of food sitting on the floor next to the table. Clearly meant for him, and he couldn't help but frown disapprovingly that Scar would do such a thing when the man wasn't using the table himself.

And speaking of which… Alphonse looked around in sudden confusion. Where _was_ Scar?

Forgetting instantly about the food and its degrading placement, all things considered with the table being empty, Alphonse quickly located the tug of the rest of Scar's soul.

The man was definitely not in the house, that much was certain.

Only debating it a moment, Alphonse suddenly rushed to the door and yanked it open. Letting it slam shut behind him he didn't even need the magnetic pull to know where Scar had gone. There was only one other place the man frequented as much as his own poor excuse for a house.

That bar at the bazaar.

And he jogged off in that direction as he beat the lingering remnants of sleep from his mind. Now was not the time to try for more sleep. He was the object of more than one curious glance, but he was not stopped as he cut around people who were suddenly in his way.

As Scar had theorized, most of them probably thought him a prostitute anyway. And there was no reason to stop prostitutes from getting exercise of a different sort.

He didn't even have the time to feel disgruntled about the mistaken assumptions as he finally made it to the bazaar. Upon where he was immediately offered a live chicken by one of the Ishbalans peddling their wares in the market area.

He waved away the chicken and immediately honed in on the bar, eyes already picking out the familiar broad shoulders and overall sturdy build of the man he sought. With a growl under his breath he stalked forward to bear down upon him.

Scar swore and nearly spilled his beer as Alphonse suddenly fell sideways in a lean against the bar counter next to him. "Fuck, Alphonse!" He growled at him. "I know you're small and all, but would you mind not just popping out of the ground? Give a man some warning."

"The beer is obviously dulling your senses." Alphonse snapped and glared at the offending brew. "The Scar I used to know would have heard me ten paces back even over this racket."

"Buy… buy…"

Alphonse whipped his head around to stare at the Ishbalan with the chicken, still determined to get him to purchase the fowl. "I don't want a chicken!" He snapped.

Scar vaguely noted Alphonse being given a dirty look before the peddler went away, he was too busy glaring at the younger man. "The Scar you used to know had no access to beer at the time. I'm currently well on my way to getting pissed, if you don't mind. So keep your comments to yourself, I'll be the same as you remember once I'm sober. Why are you here anyway?"

"Because you promised me today." Alphonse stated firmly. "You can get wasted after my time is up. And how do you think you getting wasted drunk is going to help me tonight when I check you over for pain? You'll be completely useless!"

Scar shrugged and tossed back another mouthful of beer before saying, "I've been healing just fine. I see no reason why it would change. And you know it won't, you're just being ornery."

Alphonse glared at him, "maybe I am. Maybe I'm being selfish. But you promised me! I was taking this seriously… and…" he fell silent with a sudden shake of his head.

"You were asleep. I wasn't about to just sit around." Scar told him.

Alphonse met red eyes with hard amber ones. "And this was your only other option? You're on your way to healing… no longer being practically an invalid. You can have a life again, Scar. Maybe you should have been planning for that, rather than drinking. Because as you said, you _are_ healing. No need to drink away the pain anymore…" and he drew away from the counter with a sigh. "You know where I'll be when you're done." And turning away he added, "thank you, for taking care of me" before he quickly walked away.

And he shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, staring unseeingly at the ground.

Let Scar believe he'd just been thanking him for letting him sleep, and the manner in which he'd done so. But it was far more than that... a thanks he'd never been able to say before…

Scar watched him go through narrowed eyes, absently letting his fingers slowly slip from around the mug of beer he'd been nursing.

"At least he didn't spill the beer this time. You know that kid?"

The question came from the direction of the bartender.

As Alphonse turned the corner out of sight, Scar looked down at the bar counter with brows furrowed in thought. "He's hardly a kid anymore."

"I noticed." The bartender grinned a bit. "He's just young, but not bad to look at."

That comment made Scar look up sharply. "And if you try touching him, I'll rip your arms off." He stated in a matter-of-fact growl, and abandoning his beer he suddenly swept off after Alphonse, barely using his cane he was moving so quickly.

The bartender only blinked after him before shrugging and going back to what he'd been doing.

Alphonse had made it back to the familiar house, and was just moving his plate of food up to the table when the door swung in. Looking around, startled, he said nothing as Scar entered and slammed the door shut behind him. Only stared.

Scar stared right back at him, and silence reigned for a tense minute before he spoke at last. "You're right. I have a chance to have my life back again, and it's because of you… because you're right, I promised you something."

Alphonse was silent a moment longer, before he finally gave a nod of acceptance. "I just don't like seeing you like that… like anything less than the man I used to know. I don't know what you plan to do now that you _can_ do something again… I mean," he gave a small laugh, "I hope it isn't like the last time… but you should figure it out."

Scar felt himself begin to smirk in a calculative manner as he slowly prowled his way over to the amber-eyed man. "You didn't enjoy what I was doing the last time? I happened to think it was for a good cause."

"Well we all make mistakes in the eyes of others and get strangled for them eventually." Alphonse retorted as he braved a small smile. "Even if I'm not brave enough to try strangling you."

"Wise decision." Scar noted. "Though I seem to recall you being brave enough to attack me in other ways."

Alphonse didn't flinch away as the man finally stood before him, "you were tormenting me and you know it. You scare me when you get like that, I've told you already."

"Well," Scar replied then, in a purposefully quieted voice, "I'll see what I can do about finding a less lethal occupation." And with a flash of an almost sadistic grin he ducked around Alphonse to make his way over to the kitchen area. "What is it that you do now, anyway?"

"Do you really care?" Alphonse questioned back as he turned to sit on the chair at the table and pick up his fork and knife while eyeing his pork chop with keen hunger.

Scar's head tilted to one side as he thought about it, and then shrugged. "Not really, no."

Alphonse rolled his eyes. Predictable. "Then don't ask me questions you don't mean. I'll at least assure you I'm not in the military… I'd rather not get my brains blown out so easily."

Scar actually smirked at that as he filled a glass with water for himself. "Sounds like a bluff to me."

"Don't be a jerk." Alphonse grumbled and continued to eat without hesitation.

Scar frowned at that, took a long chug of his water before setting the glass aside and slinking over to Alphonse to come up behind him. And with his cane-free hand he leaned over the smaller man, bracing himself on the table. "Now Alphonse," he rebuked silkily, "it would actually take a lot more than your occupation to make me want to kill you."

"Yes…" Alphonse agreed as he continued eating as if not noticing the man towering over him with such ease. "Because for all we know, killing me would kill you too."

Scar's smirk thinned, "you've not got me entirely convinced yet."

"Perhaps not." Alphonse agreed once more, and finally tilted his head back to look straight up into a crimson gaze. "But would you risk it?"

Scar looked back down at him silently a moment before abruptly drawing away, and before Alphonse could even get a word in edgewise, he'd vanished into his bedroom leaving Alphonse to stare after him, wondering whether or not to follow.


	7. Chapter 7

Insanity Breaking Point: Scar does have it in him to be sweet sometimes. He just doesn't like anyone to see.

Cheru-chan: Scar being protective over Al is not only adorable, it's rather sexy of him. As for what is coming up... Scar will definitely get more opportunities to get protective. As does Al, actually.

accident prone: Heh, it's Scar. His methods of threatening others are awesome yet criminal. I'm sure Al won't mind though.

Sonar: Thank you. I do love myself some dramatic angst.

GWings: Scar definitely had a little mini panic attack there that he'd not like to admit to.

GreedxEd: Scar is the one you should be fleeing from.

MandaxPanda: They are getting closer to having fluffy moments with each other. Although Scar is always bound to be a bit stubborn.

Cesaree: Scar does need to eat, I'm not sure yet if he's a fabulous cook, but at least he can eat it XD. And Scar really is the type to just go to the bar.

FablerPhoenix: Well thank you. I do love your enthusiasm XD. Holly's age hasn't been officially decided on, but I'm aiming in the late 20's for when I ever do specify. I look forward to more of your reviews.

* * *

I have realized it is very difficult to get this up when watching the FMA dvd's... oh the lovely distractions.

Although writing part of this was a distraction this morning, nearly forgot to head off to college and fix the errors registration did yet again for me. You'd think that it wouldn't be so hard... but who am I to judge. I don't do those jobs.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Seven

Alphonse didn't go search Scar out until he'd finished eating, not wanting to risk his food getting any colder than it already had. So once he was done he took care of his dirty dishes before venturing into the bedroom to find the man.

His quiet footsteps halted as he laid eyes upon him.

Scar had shoved the mattress over up against the wall, just below the window. He was sprawled back across the mattress, gazing up ahead of him through what of the window he could see out of.

Alphonse was debating how to announce his presence when Scar suddenly spoke, startling him.

"Our paths seem doomed to keep entwining, don't they."

Alphonse didn't answer right away, recognizing the words that Scar had spoken to him so many years ago.

"_Our paths entwine, don't they, Alphonse Elric."_

And how they had. They could never have known though… never have known to what extent.

"No." And as Scar's head flopped to the side to level an undecipherable gaze at him, said, "no more entwining. You fused our paths together when you saved my life. Entwining suggests opportunities to disengage… this however? This is permanent. No matter what, even being thousands of miles apart, our paths will always be fused by your soul."

"Until I die." Scar added bluntly.

"So the operating theory goes." Alphonse agreed simply, beginning to walk over now. "Does this mean you're on the path to being fully convinced?" He asked, a bit of a smile playing on his lips.

"Two too many paths to be venturing down somehow connected to you." Scar muttered acerbically as he went back to staring up out of the window.

Alphonse smiled, unmindful of Scar's tone. "They're all one in the same. But don't get all sour on me," he chided as he knelt at the side of the mattress. "You're the one who did it, even unintentionally."

"I'm still not entirely convinced." Scar replied as his eyes tracked the progression of a sparrow across the sky. "Unlike you, I don't have something inside me acting like radar for the other person. Or have dreams of what the other person is seeing."

Alphonse's mouth quirked wryly, "but you have _this_ evidence." He pressed a hand gently against the bandages of Scar's left arm. Meeting the scarlet eyes as they turned on him again, he asked, "is the absence of pain in less than a day, are the improvements not proof enough?"

"I'll take my chances and say you weren't a firm believer in this right away either." Scar wagered, looking back to the window.

"Well I'm not pressuring you." Alphonse stated flatly, before beginning to grin in unbridled amusement. "You're as stubborn as I am if pushed too much. I'd hate to see what would happen if we butted heads over something like this."

"I'd win." Scar's admission was matter-of-fact, allowing no room for anything but suicidal arguments.

Alphonse did his best to restrain a smile, despite knowing it was obvious that he was. "Of course you would."

"Alphonse…" Scar growled at the carefree tone.

"Scar." Alphonse mocked, grin coming through when Scar glared over at him. "You scowl too much, you're going to get horrid age lines in ten years unless you stop that."

Scar swatted at the brat, dislodging the hand that had somehow still been on his arm, and causing Alphonse to topple back onto his butt while the lunatic laughed. "Don't you have anything useful to do but bother me while I'm trying to make life decisions?"

Alphonse sprawled back, propping himself up on his hands as he met Scar's still-scowling gaze. "Not really." He announced cheerfully enough. Then, "so would you?"

"Would I what?" Scar groaned, mentally counting to ten. Though perhaps if he verbally counted, it would give his personal tormenter a head start to running for it.

"Risk killing me?"

The running mental countdown abruptly stopped in Scar's head, and he stared out the window a few seconds longer before slowly pushing himself up into a seated position to look across at Alphonse who watched him with a calm he'd grown used to seeing when the brat was potentially about to stand up to him. And for a long time they just stared at each other, none of them saying anything as the silence stretched on.

"It would take a lot to make me want to kill you." Scar finally replied. "Because I'd honestly hate to see my efforts at saving your life go to waste."

Alphonse slowly nodded as he translated that. "So you would, given what you deem to be the right circumstances. You'd try to kill me."

"Oh I wouldn't just try, Alphonse," Scar promised through narrowed eyes, "I _would_."

Alphonse smiled faintly with a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm not helpless, you know. But I don't plan to try giving you a reason. I was just curious."

"I believe I have a bruise near my groin to remind me that you're not helpless." Scar grumped and eased himself back down on the bed. "Now do be quiet so I can think, since I'm not getting publically intoxicated."

Alphonse smiled at that, "you should run a dojo." And hurriedly added, "one that doesn't teach them to be like you."

"And just what is _that_ supposed to mean?!" Scar flared up, nearly whipping back upright to glare at the caramel-blond.

"You know what I mean, you were worse than a pack of mercenaries." Alphonse informed him firmly with a finger pointing at him meaningfully.

Scar muttered several things under his breath he was probably glad Alphonse didn't catch before enquiring, "why a dojo?"

Alphonse stared at him as if he were mad. "You're seriously asking me that? Scar, you were a hell of a fighter. Your alchemy was only half of it. Though with your strength I don't see why you felt the need for killing people the way you did, you could have just snapped them in half over your knee."

"A good part of all of that was fueled by bitter revenge too." Scar felt obliged to point out.

Alphonse huffed at him, scooting over to rest up against the wall behind Scar's head. "Well you can find silly arguments for anything."

Scar restrained a sigh, "I'll think on it." But in reality he was cursing Alphonse for coming up with a half-decent idea. So long as the brat didn't trick and drug him into it.

Alphonse smiled down on him, unknown, glad that Scar was thinking about what to do with the rest of his life. He just hoped it was something safe and respectable this time around. Though while the argument could be leveled that running a dojo was not a safe occupation, he knew the shape Scar was in even still. The man was built like a steel tank with the weapons to match, and the only reason he'd gotten a lucky hit was because he was probably the only person on this planet either brave or stupid enough to go below the belt like _that_.

"I could be a pimp." Scar suddenly spouted out of nowhere, a teasing glimmer in his eyes.

Alphonse reflexively smacked him across the head. "Would you grow up?!"

Scar flinched dramatically as he rubbed at his abused head, tilting it back so he could glare at the offender. "I wasn't being serious!"

"Do something respectable with yourself." Alphonse chastised him relentlessly. "If I'm going to be lugging around a piece of your soul the rest of my life, I might as well have the peace of mind knowing that the other portion isn't being tainted in some way."

"Why'd you hit me?!" Scar complained as if he hadn't heard Alphonse.

"Because I felt like it." Alphonse growled in complete honesty.

Scar grumbled under his breath, resisting the urge to smack the terror back. But he did resist… barely. "What else do you feel like doing? Something that'll keep you quiet I hope?"

Alphonse glared down at him, "I thought I'd just sit here until tonight." And actually, that was starting to sound like a fine idea right now. "I'm still rather tired. I've lost a lot of sleep over you, which I'm sure thrills you."

"Then be quiet. You talk more than a girl." Scar informed him as he continued to stare out the window while readying himself for another smacking.

Alphonse merely continued to glare down at him, remaining silent. But after a while he settled back against the wall into the stretching quiet between them, his eyes closing happily enough in the drowsy after-effects of eating. He didn't think he'd actually fall back asleep, but he felt oddly safe if he did again. Even with Scar right next to him.

Scar wasn't sure how long he lay there, just thinking, Alphonse finally having shut up. But eventually he had to look away from the window as the sun had begun setting in its view, and he really didn't want to go blind. So he slowly sat up, not feeling even a twinge of pain in his arms as he did so. Looking around he saw that Alphonse, by all appearances, seemed to be asleep again. "Kid."

Alphonse's eyes fluttered open after a moment's pause, amber eyes a bit sleepy looking as he scowled at the man. "I am not a kid."

"You have only a few hours left until I kick you out so I can have dinner." Scar informed him, ignoring the correction.

Alphonse arched an eyebrow at him curiously, "advance warning? And here I was thinking that you'd only give me five minutes."

"The thought had its merits." Scar smirked.

"I don't get dinner?" Alphonse couldn't help but tease through an otherwise serious expression.

Scar huffed out a parody of a laugh. "I wouldn't waste any more of my own food on you than I had to. You think it's easy for someone like me to come by?"

"You should go buy that chicken that peddler seemed so insistent on getting rid of." Alphonse suggested, "just don't mention me and you might bargain out a good price."

"I'd rather just toss you out in two hours. That seems much more enjoyable." Scar proposed with a wicked glint in his red eyes.

"I just bet it does." Alphonse rolled his eyes as he straightened away from the wall with a groan. "Okay then, two hours? You can start with taking a bath." And as he caught Scar about to make some kind of protest, silenced him with a stern look, "make sure all the salve melts off. You don't want me trying to remove it myself, trust me. So soak _extra_ long, hot water."

Scar merely grunted as he got off his mattress and made his way into the bathroom where the door snapped shut to separate them fully.

Alphonse couldn't help but smirk after him, and then rubbing his hands together he sat back once more to think. Not about what to do as far as Scar's swiftly healing injuries, oh no. He was confident that he wouldn't need to expend that much effort or wit regarding them once Scar was done with his bath.

No, he was thinking about something else entirely.

Being the pressing matter of how he could possibly avoid Holly's gloating when he returned that she had been right about the soul business. He almost groaned as his head fell into one hand, the woman was going to be beside herself with glee and most likely debrief him in a manner the military could do to implement in order to learn all she could about what had happened while he'd been here.

Which, now that he thought back on it, had been a hell of a lot.

He didn't straighten up from where he sat slumped in on himself until he heard the bathroom door open back up again a while later. And he raised an eyebrow as Scar walked out shirtless. "I didn't know that part of you was wounded too."

Scar snorted, "don't get too excited."

Alphonse flicked his eyes over the expanse of a sculpted and toned chest with a slight smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Don't get too narcissistic. You're assuming you're my type."

"You have a type?" Scar asked in feigned interest, knowing his disinterest in the answer was evident.

"Don't we all." Alphonse drawled as he slowly got to his feet to meet Scar in the middle of the bedroom. And reaching his hands out in silent request he was given one of the once-wounded arms. Smiling he ran one hand slowly from wrist past the man's elbow, noticing that Scar didn't once flinch away or give any other mention that it might have hurt.

He didn't expect it would. The heat of infection that had been festering in places on this arm had vanished entirely. He expected that by tomorrow morning Scar would have no signs at all to show that he'd once gotten injured doing whatever transmutation activation he had done. He wasn't entirely sure of the details… only that it had been big, because Scar hadn't exactly stuck around after he'd emptied that arm into him.

"Still having trouble believing?" Alphonse asked, flicking his gaze up to meet red eyes as his hands moved to the other arm. "Would this have happened if I hadn't come back?"

"What does it matter now either way?" Scar questioned back, "you're getting tossed out in a little over an hour. So run along home afterwards, Alphonse Elric, and we can go on as if this never happened. I'm sure you were happier before knowing all this."

Alphonse's eyes narrowed, "it matters." Was all he said, jerking his attention sharply away from Scar and to the other arm. Examining it he could see that there was just as much improvement.

He really believed that by tomorrow the last of the scabbing would be gone, and Scar would be fully healed. Something that left him feeling a rush of relief. He didn't, never had, liked the idea of this man being in pain.

As he'd told Holly, Scar, to him, was a personification of unyielding strength.

"It's like I was never hurt at all." Scar muttered as his arm was let go, and he ran a hand over it himself. Feeling the new skin that didn't feel any different than the rest. It had been so long… so very long since he'd been this way, that he'd almost forgotten how his arms should look.

Alphonse smiled faintly, "just don't go getting another tattoo."

"How else do you expect me to explode body parts as quickly as I did before?" Scar smirked. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"I thought we discussed having a less lethal occupation?" Alphonse reminded him with a roll of his eyes.

Still smirking, Scar lowered his arms back down, through with his own investigations. "Discussed."

"Sometimes I wonder how I've managed to put up with you." Alphonse informed him matter-of-factly. "Take care of yourself for once, hm? I know you, you just keep going no matter what until you physically can't anymore. But you should take it easy once in a while."

With a quiet sigh, Scar shook his head. "It's not that simple, Alphonse. Or have you forgotten why I'm that way?"

"Because you're a surprisingly selfless bastard." Alphonse deadpanned.

"Something like that." What might have been a smile flickered and died on Scar's face before he asked, "anything else? Any parting words of wisdom? You do still have until nightfall."

An answer was not immediately forthcoming, and Alphonse contemplated the man a moment before he couldn't help not asking anymore. "What do I mean to you? I can't help but have seen all those years ago that you treated me different… you still do. Anyone else you'd have tossed out by now, deal or no deal. So why?"

Scar seemed to frown at the discomfort inducing questions, but he didn't look away from the amber eyes. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?" He questioned back. "You were never like the others, that remains the same, for whatever it is. I'd have even tossed out my old master by now… but I suppose even people like what I became have one person they'd bend the rules for. But I do not know why, or what that suggests you mean to me, because I never would consider you a friend."

Alphonse felt an argument against that rise to his tongue, but he forced it back. "Did you pity me?" He asked with sudden steel in his eyes.

"Of course I pitied you." Scar half-growled. "You had been turned into a bomb. What person wouldn't pity that?"

"Would you have done to your old master that you mentioned what you did to me?" Alphonse pressed on bluntly.

Scar was actually caught off balance by the question, the immediate answer that wanted to fly from his mouth slowly being swallowed back with tart realization of the truth.

Alphonse gave a slow nod, knowing all he needed to from the expression on Scar's face as the man remained in his uncomfortable silence. "At least now I know where I stand. It may not answer completely why you saved me, because I doubt it was entirely pity, but it does answer it enough to put my mind more at rest about this."

"This?" Scar echoed, abandoning his internal revelations he wasn't sure how to take in order to latch onto something potentially more stable.

"How you managed to put a piece of your soul into me." Alphonse explained quietly, still thinking about it in absent circles.

A weary sigh escaped Scar's lips as he shook his head. "What's done with that is done, if it happened at all. Now all I want from you is you to get out in an hour. But for now, you tell me if there's anything else I need to do before you run on back home where you'll be safe from me."

"You won't hurt me." Alphonse whispered with calm assurance as he gazed up into red eyes. "Very well," he continued louder, ignoring the warning look that had entered Scar's eyes at his admission. "Just keep the skin soft for a few days. And as for your leg, regular hot soaks in the tub should relax and help set things right. Use the herbs, as instructed."

…he might as well tell Scar, it certainly played the part right. The part of someone who was actually planning to willingly leave in an hour. But he wasn't exactly planning on leaving.

Not with the success that had been had. He was determined to use it as leverage still in order to stay longer. And if anything, he thought this desire of his to stay longer even less insane than he had this morning after Scar had strangled him.

"Anything else?" Scar asked mildly.

"Why are you so certain that I'm not safe when I'm with you?" Alphonse asked, ignoring the way in which Scar's question had been meant. "I feel safe. Not that I can't protect myself, I _am_ a decent alchemist after all, but I still feel safe when I'm with you." And he paused before adding, "when you're not trying to or alluding to hurting me."

Scar's entire expression was one of warning as he fixed Alphonse with a stern look. "Do not push me, Alphonse."

"I'm not _pushing_ you," Alphonse retorted, holding up his hands, "see?" And ignoring the scowl, "why is it you're so certain that –"

"I don't want to hurt you, you irritating brat!" Scar snapped over him.

"You –" Alphonse suddenly stopped as he blinked at Scar, realizing only now that it hadn't exactly been meant as a threat. "Oh."

Scar was still scowling as he abruptly turned away to move to exit the room, not saying anything in his furthered annoyance for having given in to what Alphonse had wanted.

Alphonse paused a moment before he moved after him, intercepting the man before he could make it out to the other room. Grabbing Scar by the arm he swung him around without any flare of self-preservation. "Scar –"

"Alphonse, you should have learned by now to let some things be." Scar interrupted with a steely gaze. "Do not test my limits in this. Take my advice, and make sure you're packed."

Alphonse could barely begin to look indignant when his hand on Scar's arm was shook off, and he watched the man disappear towards the kitchen. "And you say you don't think of me as a friend. Stubborn man." He sighed and looked towards where his suitcase lay still open, ready to be packed up for a departure he wasn't planning to take. Not yet. "But you're not the only one who's stubborn."

As such, he figured that now was as good a time as any to brace himself for the impending blowup that was certain to happen.

And happen it did, a little less than an hour later, as dusk began to set on the small desert town.

"Alphonse…"

Alphonse heard his name growled out meaningfully from the other room, but he didn't budge. He was standing by his packed suitcase, but was not at all inclined to pick it up and leave. So instead he merely pretended as if he hadn't heard, directing a nonchalant gaze towards the window where the sky was progressively growing darker.

The clacking of the cane was his forewarning.

Scar scowled as he saw Alphonse staring out into space. "Alphonse!" He barked to get the caramel-blond's attention off of the window.

Alphonse hid a smirk, but graced Scar with his attention and a purely innocent look. "Scar?"

"Don't _Scar_ me," he growled, "your time is up. Now get the hell out of my house." But Scar's red eyes were narrowing in warning and suspicion as Alphonse didn't appear to immediately get the clue.

Alphonse stood his ground still as Scar began to venture away from neutrality and into offensive. The man was beginning to expect that something was up, smart of him. "When I first got here and asked for permission to help you, you said that if you weren't marginally better for my attentions, I'd better run."

"Sounds like some good, healthy advice." Scar noted as he now moved slowly closer to Alphonse, a predatory gleam entering his eyes.

Alphonse stared back at him unwaveringly, not moving away as the man came ever closer. "I know you won't hurt me, I know you may not trust yourself not to… but I trust you."

Scar was glaring fiercely as he seized Alphonse by the front of his shirt and hauled him forward. "Leave, Alphonse. Leave on your own two feet, or I'll toss you out. You don't have long to decide."

Alphonse glared right back up into the scarlet eyes. "I won't run. You're better now, because of me, and I'm not going anywhere until I know for _certain_ that you're completely healed. There are some damages that could be possible that I could never see. I told you that if nothing changed you could throw me out, well, things have changed and you know it! You thanked me for it!"

Scar's jaw worked furiously, grinding his teeth as he fought against the urge to smack Alphonse over the head. He'd thought that the brat would use that little moment to his favor, seemed he wasn't about to be disappointed. "Don't twist the past to suit you in the present." Scar growled back at him. "Make your choice now, Alphonse. Leave on your own, or I'll eject you myself."

Alphonse didn't drop his determined gaze as he slowly reached his hands up to grip the hand tangled in his shirt. "I won't leave you yet. Not until I wish to leave. Make _your_ choice, Scar."

Scar let out an animalistic snarl before yanking Alphonse around sharply, never letting his grip free despite the hands on his. They weren't doing anything but warmly holding on. Swooping down quickly he snatched up Alphonse's suitcase before straightening and hauling Alphonse off his feet.

Alphonse let out an indignant noise, but gripped tighter to Scar's hand.

"I told you what I'd do. And even for _you_ there are some exceptions I _won't_ make." Scar snapped as he hauled Alphonse towards the front door.

"Scar! Put me down!" Alphonse squirmed. "I can walk on my own! And besides, I'm not going anywhere until I'm satisfied!"

"This is easier than shoving you out the door." Scar announced, sounding almost cheerful. "And a hell of a lot more fun."

"Scar!"

Scar whipped open the front door with what could almost be described as a grin. "Was lovely to see you again. Don't come back." And without preamble, flung Alphonse out the door as the tormenter shrieked in surprise.

"_Scar_!" Alphonse bit out as he landed in an ungainly heap in the dirt.

"Alphonse." Scar mocked back with a flare of sarcasm, and promptly slammed the door shut as Alphonse sat there stunned in the dirt.

"Give me my suitcase, you jerk!" Alphonse yelled back at him, raising a fist in indignation as he continued to sit there on his ass in the dirt.

The door reopened, only to have the suitcase rapidly ejected out through it, and Alphonse barely ducked in time to avoid decapitation.

Turning around to glare at it, Alphonse then sighed as he looked back at the closed door. "I'm still not leaving." He grumbled as he staggered to his feet, brushing himself off. Sticking his hands on his hips he frowned at the house, "damn him."

He realized that he'd gotten off easy, anyone else probably would have been killed for standing up to Scar at that moment. But it didn't matter to him, he had issues with being tossed out through doors and nearly being brained by his own suitcase.

"It may not be equivalent exchange…" Alphonse began just a bit grumpily, "but you're not exactly a proper alchemist. So I guess that leaves this open for creativity." Reaching down he grabbed his suitcase, and ignoring the looks he was getting, made his way towards the bazaar.

He had a peddler to find.

He didn't have to look long, and upon spotting the peddler he needed, he took off at a quick jog towards the aged Ishbalan. Yet again continuing to ignore the looks of curiosity he was being pinned with.

"Rude Amestrian." The Ishbalan peddler greeted with a dirty look as Alphonse came to a halt, suitcase swinging slightly in his grip.

Alphonse ignored the jab. Instead, he reached into the outer flap of his suitcase to pull out a handful of bills. "You wouldn't still happen to have that chicken, would you?"

The peddler's look immediately changed to one of businesslike interest. "Buy?"

Before Alphonse could confirm, the peddler was brandishing a squawking and squirming chicken in front of his eyes.

"Buy… buy…!" The peddler began to chant once more, blowing on the chickens feathers to demonstrate… something.

"Definitely." Alphonse smirked, and swapped the bills for the chicken whom he was soon dangling upside down by its clawed feet. "Pleasure doing business with you."

With that, Alphonse set off with a now entranced and quiet chicken in tow, ready to wait until the midnight hour. He couldn't leave Scar without giving him a gift of his appreciation for tossing him like that after all. And besides, he wasn't leaving until he was satisfied that Scar was fully in the clear. He may as well let a token reminder that he was still around drop in on Scar.

Smirking, he began to look for a place to set up for a while until it was time.

The chicken dozed away willingly.

Once the hour was a little after midnight, Alphonse snuck his way around Scar's house up to the open bedroom window. After a quick peek through to be sure the man was fast asleep, damn him for being able to rest right now when _he_ was the one so lacking in sleep, and with the knowledge that Scar was indeed safely sleeping away, he carefully lowered the chicken down through the window.

The threat to laugh was just too much, causing him to need to bite down on his hand to stifle the noise. But Alphonse watched smugly as the chicken woke up, righted itself with a confused cluck, and began to saunter off across the floor with little muted clucks of interest.

"Sweet dreams." Alphonse whispered smugly as he carefully eased the window closed. And that done, he settled down against the wall to wait it out. "That'll show you for actually tossing me out into the dirt. I hope you like chickens."

Meanwhile, the chicken grew ever closer to where Scar slumbered unaware.


	8. Chapter 8

Cheru-chan: Luckily nothing too bad happens to Al. I think the poor chicken gets the worst of it.

accident prone: I'm sure Scar loves waking up to chickens XD. It's just as good as waking up next to Al.

Hikari Kura: Thank you. I'm glad my evil sense of humor appeals to you. Chickens are fun as pranks!

GreedxEd: Scar will have a good future. Besides having his Al, which is pretty darn good.

Sonar: Thank you. I hope the chicken does not disappoint.

GWings: The chicken is a bird of wickedness! And shall be... revered by Scar.

Insanity Breaking Point: Pranks really are such fun. And even more fun when they involve live animals XD.

gali-o-: I'm sure that Scar is thinking just the same, a lovely present.

* * *

Well here's hoping that the chicken shall be loved and adored by Scar until the end of his days. Somehow, I don't think that'll come true. But here's to hoping! XD

When I first started writing this chapter about three weeks ago - don't shoot me - it was the evening after I got back from my nightly run. Wherein I spent the last half mile or so imagining Scar's possible reactions to the chicken. Now that is some funny imagery to keep you occupied while you're running, and it scares your running partner very nicely when you randomly burst out laughing as you're going along and the only intelligent thing you can say is "chicken".

And I'll update At Gate's Edge later, for those of you are reading both, I need to take a nap because apparently my internal alarm clock decided to wake me up at 2am. I'm finally tired again, thank goodness.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Eight

Scar stirred in his sleep, his brow wrinkling as the first rays of dawn sunlight fell across his face. Still mostly asleep, he grumbled lowly as he turned over to try and escape the light, his left arm flopping over with him… and onto something warm and soft. But this oddity didn't register with the still slumbering Ishbalan.

Not until he instinctively went to drag the warmth towards him.

"GRAWK!"

"FUCKING HELL!"

Feathers, talons, human limbs, and a stream of curses flew throughout the bedroom as Scar shrieked in his attempts to get away from the feathered devil that had been attempting to slice him with talons. Somehow he managed in his scrambling to toss the thin blanket over the squawking, deeply offended chicken, and he collapsed back onto the floor gasping hard to catch his breath after his fight.

"GRAWK, GRAWK, _GRAWK!_"

"Shut it!" Scar snapped with a groan as he felt the slight sting from where the talons had nicked him, and he scowled as feathers began to finally float down around him.

"_GRAWK!_"

Scar began to seethe as he lay there. Where the fuck had that chicken come from? It hadn't been there when he'd gone to bed, and chickens didn't sleepwalk. He suddenly sat up, spitting away feathers that had drifted onto his face.

Who did he know who would have found sticking a chicken in his home amusing?

"ALPHONSE!"

Alphonse had been crouched and hidden outside the bedroom window the entire night, keeping himself awake purely for this moment, and now that it was here, it was entirely worth it. When Scar and the chicken had first made each other's acquaintance he'd had to bite down on his hand through his laughter to try and stifle it… and now that Scar was yelling his name, he only laughed harder.

Seemed the man was no fool.

Practically shaking from laughter, he struggled as carefully and quietly as he could to his feet in order to make a run for it, but as he heard the front door suddenly slam he abandoned all stealth with haste and something sounding rather pathetically like a squeak.

"Alphonse!"

Alphonse fled with a volley of fresh laughter through the dusty streets.

Scar barely caught the flash of dark gold hair as it darted away before he ground his teeth together and unthinkingly tossed aside his cane. "You can't escape that easy." He growled before giving chase, not noticing once that for the first time in years he was running without pain. And his body proved that it had a quick re-learning curve as he began to gain on Alphonse.

Alphonse looked back through a pause as he went to round another corner, saw Scar running after him looking something less than murderous, tried to hold back fresh laughter that was slowing him down and failed before he darted away again.

"Alphonse! Get back here you terror!" Scar shouted after him as he skidded around the corner to continue pursuit.

Alphonse looked over his shoulder as he ran along, not really knowing where he was running. And a brilliant grin took over his face. "You wouldn't stop if you were chasing yourself!"

"You're ridiculous!" Scar snapped after him, still slowly gaining so that he was now only about two hundred feet behind. "Alphonse!"

Alphonse gave another laugh before trying to run faster, but the laughter he couldn't help was quickly robbing him of his breath. Yet he kept running, knowing that it really was pointless. But as insane as it may sound to anyone else, he was having fun.

The two of them ran throughout most of the town. As it became lighter outside more people began to filter onto the dusty streets, and soon it became just as much a dodging sport as it was running. Although Alphonse didn't think it was totally fair that they didn't scatter for him, but as soon as he'd veered around them and they saw who was after him they parted like deer.

Finally it became clear when Scar was only a few yards back that Alphonse needed to do some risky maneuvers. And so he changed course abruptly around a turn in order to make for the bazaar, hoping it would just be beginning to get busy and he might lose Scar in the crowd.

And he was not disappointed.

Scar swore under his breath as Alphonse began to dart in among the people beginning to set up shop, who were not quite as quick to move for _him_ as he charged through. But he wasn't about to give up that easily. If Alphonse had come here to continue this, the brat was getting desperate. Although what he still couldn't figure out was _why_ Alphonse seemed to be so genuinely happy.

Not a cruel happiness, like Alphonse had planted that chicken to be mean… so what _had_ Alphonse done it for?

He needed to catch the little terror first to find out, and he wholeheartedly continued the chase.

By the time the two had made three circuits through the bazaar, the other Ishbalans were wising up to their present activity and getting out of their way sooner. And some it seemed were even taking great interest in whatever the prostitute had done to merit being chased like this, following the chase avidly with their eyes.

And the moment Alphonse was in reach due to fresh laughter, Scar darted his hand out to catch the smaller man around the arm firmly and haul him to a stop. It didn't matter to him that they were the subject of almost every pair of eyes around as he whirled his prize around to grab his other wrist and yank Alphonse up to him so close they almost touched.

Alphonse gave another quiet laugh as he panted to catch his breath, not struggling at all in Scar's hold. He merely looked up at the man, knowing he'd been caught fairly and with great success on Scar's part. After all, the man had chased him down without his cane. And had done it without trouble.

"Fuck you're a terror." Scar finally said, breaking the panting silence between them.

Alphonse was just about to open his mouth to reply when suddenly, Scar began laughing. His eyes went wide in shock, and he was stunned for almost a good minute before he smiled. It seemed even Scar was not immune to the uplifting effects of endorphins. "Looks like you're all healed. Even your leg."

Scar tried to damper down his laughter, beginning to look at Alphonse as if he'd never quite seen anyone like him before.

"And I paid you back for the food and nearly decapitating me with my suitcase," Alphonse continued in a relaxed way, "I can leave now."

Scar smirked briefly, "that chicken clawed the fuck out of me I hope you know."

"Scared you pretty good too." Alphonse reminded him with a teasing smile.

"I should throttle you." Scar growled, mostly to himself. Then in looking around he saw they were still the subject of more than one interested stare, and what alarmed him most were the number of suggestive looks they were getting, which caused him to suddenly realize how close he'd been gripping Alphonse to him. "However," he cleared his throat roughly as he pointedly backed Alphonse up, "I'm more interested in breakfast after that marathon you made me run. Why didn't you stop? You clearly weren't afraid."

Alphonse smiled at him, "because whether you realized it or not, I could tell you were enjoying it. Not in a vindictive way, but you were genuinely enjoying it. You haven't had anything to pursue in a long time."

Scar didn't answer for a long time, thinking about it instead. And he was still thinking about it when he abruptly let Alphonse go, thinking about why and _how_ Alphonse had robbed him so easily and without his notice, any feelings of revenge he might have started out with. "Go on then. Before I change my mind and throttle you anyway."

He was planning to go kill that chicken for his breakfast while cursing that he seemed to have an innate soft spot for Alphonse.

Alphonse stumbled back as a confused look overcame his face. "You're letting me go so easily?"

"It takes more than you setting a chicken loose in my home, no matter the reason, even if you didn't even _have_ a reason, to make me want to really do you damage. However, if you keep pestering me, I'll rethink it." Scar informed him flatly. "I _do_ have a sense of humor, and can appreciate that you'd do something like that. It's nice, actually."

Alphonse stooped to retrieve his suitcase, straightening with a long huff of breath before he smiled at the man. "Glad I could amuse you. Take care of yourself, I'd like to be able to finally get some decent sleep tonight."

"I'll make sure to save getting into a bar fight for tomorrow then." Scar replied, smiling faintly as Alphonse laughed. "Now get out of here, brat."

Alphonse didn't need to be told again, now that he was certain that Scar was fully healed – as that marathon had proven – he felt comfortable in returning home again. And it was something he was thrilled about. "Scar." He nodded at the man with a smile, before turning to walk away. He got only five steps before he turned and looked back to see Scar still watching him. "Will you ever tell me your real name?"

"The name I was born with hasn't been who I am since long before we met, Alphonse." Scar replied slowly. "I've done my best to forget it."

Alphonse didn't answer, only gave him a parting look and a smile before turning around again and continuing on his way. They still had had quite a few spectators, and they parted for him easily with several sporting surprised looks. Apparently they hadn't expected him not to get throttled, he was under the impression that anyone else _would_ have been, or worse, if they'd let a chicken loose in Scar's home, no matter what the man claimed about a sense of humor.

Scar watched him make his way through the crowd, not moving from where he stood. Not noticing the looks they were both getting such was his preoccupation with watching Alphonse leave.

Alphonse didn't leave right away, however. Instead near the edge of the bazaar he stopped to buy himself a few apples for the road, and had just tucked all but one away when one of the men who'd been standing nearby grabbed his elbow.

"You don't have to leave yet."

Alphonse threw him a puzzled look as he shook the man's hand off. "I'm inclined to disagree." And started forward again, only to have his path quickly blocked by the same man sidestepping into his way. "Seriously, move, or I'll make you move." Alphonse began to growl as his irritation rose.

"You must be good to make _him_ smile, but I can pay much more than that guy." The same man insisted.

Alphonse suddenly understood, and a disgusted look crossed his face. "I'm not a whore, you moron! Now get out of my way before I move you myself, possibly only into the next country if you're lucky."

"You're not?" The Ishbalan frowned, but suddenly came upon a solution as he ignored the rest of what Alphonse had said. "Just a quickie then, you'll be on your way with money shortly."

"Tempting," Alphonse growled sarcastically, "but no." And rather huffily he stalked around the man, hoping he'd be an idiot and try to stop him again, just so he could have the excuse to pummel him.

He was not disappointed.

However, long before he could even fully turn around, ready to smash the man's head in with his suitcase, a loud crack cut through the air joined by the man's body flying sideways into a nearby wall.

Scar stalked the last step forward to hover over Alphonse while leveling a murderous glare down at the unconscious Ishbalan who'd dared to bother the caramel-blond who was staring up at him with wide, surprised eyes. "He said no." He growled at the unmoving body. "So keep your filthy hands off of him. Alphonse, stop staring at me with those cow eyes. You'll only tempt them to keep trying, even after this."

"I'm not staring at you with cow eyes!" Alphonse protested loudly, somewhat offended by the accusation. "And it's not my fault they think I'm a prostitute."

"It's your fault for being a bit feminine looking for a guy." Scar ground out before he seized Alphonse by the arm. "I've changed my mind. You're staying with me until I've had breakfast and can see you safely out of town."

Alphonse barely had time to process that before he was being dragged off, and as soon as he realized it he moved faster to keep up better. "I am not feminine looking!" He hissed as he was marched off through an even more interested crowd of shoppers and peddlers. "And I can take care of myself. I would have knocked him out myself if you hadn't beaten me to it."

"You're feminine looking compared to me. And I don't care, I'm seeing you out anyway." Scar argued heatedly.

"Everyone is feminine looking compared to you!" Alphonse growled back. "You've got tree trunks growing out of your shoulders. And that's just what everyone _else_ sees. Has seen."

Scar glared as he saw Alphonse blush. "Would you get yourself out of the gutter and forget you ever saw anything?"

"Shut up." Alphonse retorted, but found himself smiling.

There was silence for a few minutes until the point they'd turned down the last street before they'd reach Scar's shack of a home, only then did Scar break the quiet stretching between them. "Don't get me wrong though," he added quietly, "I like how you look now. I was a bit surprised that you'd be so small in comparison to that suit of armor… but I do think you're better this way, for more than one reason."

"That's almost a compliment." Alphonse noted with exaggerated shock.

Scar rolled his eyes. "Just make sure you don't run into any trouble between here and where you live. Hit them first, ask questions later."

"I thought Ishbalans were supposed to protect their own?"

"We do. And sometimes we need to protect Alphonse Elrics' from the seedier of the Ishbalans. It's never a one way road." Scar answered.

Alphonse didn't dare give voice to his opinion on that, afraid that Scar would change his mind about not throttling him. So instead he kept quiet as they reached the small shack that Scar called home. The cane was retrieved from the dirt, and Scar let them inside.

"Go round up that chicken for me." Scar told him, leaning the cane against the wall and starting over to the small stove to begin putting a pan on to preheat.

Alphonse shuddered faintly, but went in search of the chicken while calling behind him. "You're killing and cleaning it!"

Moving stealthily through Scar's bedroom, Alphonse crept ever nearer to where the chicken was sauntering about imperiously with little clucks and shakes of its feathers. He pointedly ignored the droppings. He had enough to worry about now that the chicken had spotted him.

Snatching the thin blanket from the floor, Alphonse carefully worked on cornering the wary bird. It took several quick dodges to avoid being attacked by the feathered fiend, but before long Alphonse had success, and quite cheerfully he brought the squawking bird out to Scar.

"I've been wanting to do this for a while now." Scar muttered as he seized the bird.

Alphonse barely had time to look away before Scar snapped the chicken's neck with one twist of a powerful hand. Cringing he fought back the urge to shudder as he looked back and saw the chicken dangling there lifeless.

"You have killed an animal before, right?" Scar frowned at the amber-eyed bringer of the chicken. Technically it was Alphonse's fault if he felt bad for the animal.

"Yes." Alphonse scowled at him. "But it doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

"You'll enjoy eating it."

Alphonse's head fell to the side in confusion as he watched Scar turn to go over to the counter so he could butcher the bird. "You're feeding me as well?"

Scar didn't turn as he began ruthlessly plucking the chicken. "Would you rather only have those apples?"

"Well, no –"

"Then make yourself useful and get the butter."

Within an hour the chicken was browning nicely in the pan as Scar tended to it diligently. Alphonse was leaning back against the nearby wall as he watched. There was something oddly comforting about watching Scar cook… else he was more tired than he could realize anymore.

"Wake up, kid." Scar finally said as he turned off the heat and went in search of plates.

"I'm not a kid." Alphonse sighed as he straightened from the wall with a groan. Hadn't he been over this with Scar before? "I'm twenty."

"Twenty." Scar repeated as he looked the alchemist over. "Does everyone look so young at twenty?"

Alphonse shrugged and quipped, "I guess you didn't."

Scar's response was to roughly shove a plate of food into Alphonse's hands before heading off to sit at the table so he could eat.

Alphonse looked after him with a smile, and after a moment, padded over so that he could hop up and sit on the table next to him, balancing his plate on his lap. "Can I ask how you got your arms back?"

Scar was so busy frowning at a certain ass that was sitting on his table that at first he didn't hear the question, but after a moment his brain processed it and he looked up to meet curious amber eyes. "The same way you got your body back. When I set off that transmutation, something happened to me, I'm not sure what exactly… I thought I was seconds from dying. My next memory is hazy, of this big black Gate, and when I woke up I had both my arms. Such as they were."

"And then you got the hell out of Lior?" Alphonse pressed as he forked a piece of chicken into his mouth.

"It seemed the prudent thing to do, as you were nowhere to be found." Scar replied as he went back to frowning at Alphonse's rear end. "Why are you sitting on my table? Get off."

Alphonse kicked his legs back and forth, not moving an inch. "I didn't want to sit on the floor and eat. And I didn't want to stand and eat."

Scar looked up to give him a reproachful look. "I thought you were an accomplished alchemist? _Make_ a chair."

Alphonse smirked at him. "I could, but there's hardly sufficient material here for the creation of a chair. It's weird, you know, having an Ishbalan tell you to use alchemy. I'm trying to respect your culture too in a way. If you'll notice I haven't used alchemy once since coming here."

"Don't waste your time, just do it." Scar answered as he began cutting up some more chicken on his plate. "I'm the last Ishbalan who could ever preach to you about alchemy and Ishbala. That tattoo may be gone, so I can't use alchemy right away anymore, but I still use it, even now."

Alphonse slid off of the table to walk around behind Scar, peering over the man's shoulders. "So do you chalk transmutation circles on your hands?"

"I could now." Scar looked back at him. "But I will be getting something more permanent. I don't care what your opinion is about it."

"So you _wouldn't_ be able to blow my brains out just like _that_," he snapped his fingers, "anymore."

"Not just yet, no. But considering the fact that my hand can easily fit around your skull, I wouldn't need it anyway. I could crush it just as easily as explode it."

Alphonse repressed a shiver, "that's comforting." He muttered as he busied himself more with his chicken. But then, he'd already known that. Next to Scar's stature, he probably _did_ look like a kid. The man could easily snap him in two without giving it much effort.

Scar could only tolerate Alphonse just hovering around, eating, for so long before he finally stood up sharply from his chair as his knife and fork clattered onto his plate. And before Alphonse could do more than jump in initial reaction, he'd seized the caramel-blond by his hips and hoisted him up into the air to plop him on top of the table.

He then sat back down without a word to resume eating as if nothing had happened.

Alphonse was blinking in shock, gaping slightly before he slowly began to relax and an easy smile came over his face. Tactfully he didn't say a word about it, merely went back to eating as he tried not to look too happy.

When they'd both finished eating Scar set the dishes in the sink to deal with later before turning to his personal tormentor who was watching him with those dark gold eyes while still perching atop his table. "Time for you to run along home."

Alphonse nodded, sliding off the table amiably. "It's almost sweet you know, you seeing me out of town." He teased as he grabbed his suitcase.

"Believe me, I'd rather not." Scar walked over to him purposefully, "but maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to hit some more people if they try to touch you."

"Hit? Scar, I'm pretty sure you put that man in a coma you _hit_ him so hard." Alphonse gave him an amused look. "And since when do you care if someone else touches me?"

Scar took Alphonse by his elbow to steer him around and out the door. "Since you might be harboring a piece of my soul." Which wasn't exactly the whole truth, it didn't feel to him like the whole truth, but he didn't _know_ what the whole truth was either.

"Very well, just don't squeeze so hard. I may not be made out of glass, but I'm not made out of steel anymore either." Alphonse complained as he and Scar walked along, making their way to the outskirts of the town.

Scar immediately loosened his grip.

Alphonse smiled up at him, but otherwise did or said nothing. Only continued to allow Scar to lead him through the town until at long last they reached the very edge. It only took him a moment to locate which way was west, and stepping away from Scar he turned around to consider the man thoughtfully. "Thanks, for everything. I'm glad you're alive, and that you're better now. So take care of yourself."

Scar let out a huff of breath. "_You_ take care of yourself." And hesitating a moment, he then gave a curt nod and turned to make his way back into town.

Alphonse watched him walk off with a small smile. But then the lure of heading home became too great, and turning about he headed off happily. It would be good to get home, feeling satisfied that Scar was alive and well now.

Scar only got two streets down before he stopped dead, staring stormily at the ground as if it'd done him some great wrong. "Damn that kid." He snapped and suddenly hurried off for home with new purpose.


	9. Chapter 9

xLacri: I'm glad that you now like this pairing! I agree, Roy/Ed will always have a special place for me, but these two have potential too. And yush! Blame me for the laughter! Thank you. I did rather enjoy writing that line... because it's the total truth. Scar is a total manly man.

Cheru-chan: Chickens are fantastic XD. And god, the size comparisons are so lovely, I'm glad someone besides me is enjoying them. When they get to the intimate stuff... guh, it'll make me a happy fangirl.

MandaxPanda: I'm glad you laughed through it! And don't worry, it's not my intention to make them have a long distance romance.

Nana-Riiko: I hope that future chapters help you more with them as a pairing. I'm glad that so far it's working.

Hikari Kura: Married, huh? ...Scar wore the dress!

Sonar: I absolutely loved writing that chicken scene! I'm glad you appreciated it so much.

gali-o-: Gawd, now you've got _me_ drooling thinking about Al in Scar's lap as his meal.

GWings: Yay! It's always a success when the monitor gets sprayed with tea and everyone thinks you've gone bonkers! Thank you. And aww... Scar cuddling Al... now I'm daydreaming.

Insanity Breaking Point: I'm so glad you were crying on the floor... laughing XD. And in the next few chapters you'll see what Scar ends up doing.

GreedxEd: You're as crazy as Kedder.

FablerPhoenix: Mmm... throttling Al, yeah, I admit I was having more than a few thoughts about what Scar could do to Al in front of everyone, considering the grip he had on Al. I bet some would have enjoyed the show, I would have. And yeah, playing pranks and such often do feel awkward. So I'm glad some of that reality seeped through. They never quite go as you imagine, and they're just silly to boot.

accident prone: Oh don't worry, Al does get his chance to do a beat-down on someone.

elemental-heiress: Every one? How long did it take you to read all the stories? I'm always curious when someone has. Heh, I would be scared too if my dad had done that, or anyone really. Unless it was among friends and then I'd probably cheer and go "lemon!"... because I'm hopeless like that.

* * *

Not really sure what to say... other than my foot has stopped having hot flashes. I'm 22 for goodness sake, bit early, no?

Transition-type chapter, but like the one before it, needed.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Nine

Alphonse managed to cover a decent amount of ground in the remaining hours of the day, although he knew he was still several days out from the nearest train station. Along the way he allowed himself to snack on one of the apples he'd purchased, but that was it. He was hoping to find some manner of desert creature to serve as his dinner and signal to him a good point to stop for the night.

As it was, he didn't.

But that was really part of the adventure, not knowing.

So he stopped anyway, figuring that one patch of cooling sand was as good as the next. And after some quick arrangements he had his makeshift camp set up for the night. He relaxed in front of the crackling fire, letting the flames and popping embers lure him into some sort of meditative state. He knew it wouldn't be long until he would be curling up to catch some long-needed sleep, but for now he wanted to enjoy the fire.

It was nice to know that Scar was truly okay. It was nice to not feel that perpetual tug in his mind directing him to Scar's location. It was _extremely_ nice to know that he'd finally be able to get some damn sleep.

And deciding he could last no longer, he checked to make sure the fire was properly contained before curling up on the ground where he was asleep before he'd even fully settled.

But the snares of his dreams were not so easily sated.

_The desert lay before him again. Calm, lit only by the moonlight. And he was moving, at an industrious pace judging by the rapid flow of the sand under him. But he was not alone. A figure lurked just out of sight to the right, and that same figure was speaking._

"_I must admit to having some surprise at your request...at seeing you again."_

"_Keep your feelings to yourself. Just understand that you'll do this properly, or you won't live to see the dawn." _

"_Not much further."_

_A blink._

_The interior of a shabbily lit cavern, walls covered in charcoal drawn arrays and the remnants of sandstorms past, and the whirring hum of a machine. _

"_This last section may hurt."_

_But not a sound was heard, the vision only moving down to bring into sight the identity of the whirring machine. A tattoo gun. And the needle was effectively completing an array straight onto tanned Ishballan skin._

_Another blink._

_And bandages were being wrapped around the fresh tattoo. The slip of money changing hands, and then the hurried leaving of the cavern. But this time, the pace set was far faster, almost a jog, and it didn't seem likely to tire anytime soon as darkness continued to reign over the desert._

Like clockwork, three hours of sleep later, Alphonse woke with a full-body jolt and a gasp. And he lay there, panting to catch his breath before suddenly smacking the ground with a closed fist. "That _idiot_!"

And then he was rapidly coaxing the fire back to a brighter life as he felt the sheen of sweat he'd broken out into began to chill him in the cool night air. All the while venting to the heavens. "He couldn't even let me have _one night_ of sleep. Not one! No, he has to go _strolling_ through a desert instead of sleeping like some normal person. He _has_ to get a tattoo to be badass with alchemy again."

He realized that somewhere along the way he'd slipped into sounding like he was whining. And maybe he was, but could he really be blamed? He was about ready to march right back after Scar and take his chances decking the man.

…apparently a lack of sleep made him reckless and slightly violent.

And what was better, that damnable pull was back. According to whatever link was shared between them via the two pieces of Scar's soul, getting a tattoo may not have hurt _Scar_, but his body was claiming foul play.

"Fucking fantastic." Alphonse growled, flopping back down onto his back. "That idiot better do as I said to take care of injuries, and learn to follow a proper sleeping schedule. I don't know how much longer I can go without decent sleep."

He flopped an arm over his eyes, willing sleep to take him again. Why was it that ever since this had all started, the only times he'd ever actually been able to sleep, was when Scar was nearby him? The man had even been awake at the time, same as the dreams… visions, and it hadn't mattered then. "Holly… I should have made you get a substitute teacher and dragged you along with me."

And just like all the times before, there was no chance of getting more sleep. About two hours later, he finally accepted that. Even though it was with a goodly amount of disappointment and irritation at Scar. But even so, he packed up his things and put out the campfire before heading out across the sand once more.

He may as well cover some more ground while it was cooler, instead of just sitting on his ass. He might actually make an earlier train if there was one.

He was not going back to Scar over a tattoo.

And so he marched onward, with every intention to go back home and interrogate Holly on some matters. Eventually his exhaustion fading back into a dull, numb ache as the hours wore on.

By midday, he was ready to kill something. So he did. In the form of a thin rabbit that didn't move nearly fast enough for an Elric on a slight warpath. And he took great joy in sticking the fillets of meat over the fire to watch the fat sizzle and pop and melt into the cooking meat.

By nightfall, he was ready to collapse from weariness, having only had at most three hours of sleep the night before, and two hours rest, before he'd started out walking again. An activity he'd done for the better part of this day. But he was starting to seriously wonder if a night of full sleep would be too much to ask for.

Yet he settled down anyway, mentally sighing that at the very least, he'd get three hours more. Unless Scar didn't wake him up… an occurrence he felt might make him cry in relief.

_The four walls materialized, the edge of the mattress and its flimsy sheet just in view, and the rustling of paper disturbed the stagnant night air. And then everything shifted downwards, and a familiar sight of an arm wrapped in bandages was brought into view. _

_The other hand began to deftly unwrap the old dressings, gradually bringing the arm underneath into view. The forearm now bearing a complex array seeming to twist around the entire corded length of it. An array different from before, but still an intimidation to behold. _

_The skin around the black ink of the tattoo was tinged a faint red of irritation, the skin protesting the inking it had undergone. A long forefinger trailed down one of the inflamed sections, a slight hiss drawn out from the touch._

_And then the gaze was shifting towards the floor where a gritty, yet slimy green herbal paste was contained in an earthenware bowl. That same forefinger dipped into the paste along with two other fingers, scooping free a generous amount with a sticky sucking noise._

_The tattoo was becoming covered in the alien looking substance. The entire length of it, until not a hint of black ink nor red irritation could be seen. _

_The world jolted unsteadily, heaving side to side and upwards. And when the picture finally settled the bathroom sink was before him, the remnants of that green substance flowing down the drain with spurts of water from the faucet. _

_And then the vision jerked up, straight into the mirror where crimson redness seared before everything went dark._

Alphonse flailed up out of his sleep with a gasp wrenching from his throat, a by now, normal occurrence. But this time he was gasping for air, as if he'd been drowning. And a few coughs escaped him before he curled back in on himself with a shiver, feeling the sweat beginning to cool on his skin.

"Scar… just sleep… please." He whispered. "Tend to it, but during the day… let me sleep."

And he lay there motionless, just trying to calm his breathing for several minutes, the sweat having dried already on his skin, making him feel grittier than normal after a few days spent out in a desert. He laid there, and laid there, his mind whirling with a dizzying series of thoughts. And then one of those thoughts in particular brought on a flash of inspiration and he stirred rapidly to life, building his campfire back up with sudden purpose.

There _was_ one last thing he hadn't tried yet.

With desperation for sleep came desperate measures… and Alphonse quickly got water for tea boiling.

"At least its herbal, bound to be better for me than sleeping pills."

And once the water was boiling, Alphonse rooted in his suitcase for the proper herbs and dropped them in. Being extra careful to cut down the amount as needed, considering he was definitely not as large as Scar. He didn't want to end up passed out long enough to give predators a chance at him.

He just wanted to see if it _would_ knock him out. Even for an hour. Hell, he'd even take five minutes!

It seemed eternity before the tea had steeped enough, and Alphonse poured himself a small tin traveling cup full of the liquid to let it start to cool as he worked on banking the fire a bit, and tossed the rest of the tea out onto the sand. He'd not be needing it later, even if this didn't work.

After a quick rearranging of his things, Alphonse picked the cup back up and took a deep breath. "Better than murder." He said in a toast towards the south, and with a muttered "here goes nothing," he quickly downed the tea as if it were just a common beer.

And setting the cup aside he knew he had about thirty seconds to lay down if it was going to work at all. With Scar it had taken approximately a minute.

He was just about to begin easing himself down when he went limp, flopping into unconsciousness onto his side, his limbs flailing into place at odd angles.

Perhaps ten seconds.

Alphonse Elric slept that night, with his mouth gaping open, arms askew, and legs still partially bent under him. It was doubtful he'd regret the soreness come morning, if it had come at the price of sleep.

And the next morning dawned for the first time in weeks on a sleeping Alphonse.

It was only about an hour after sunrise before the caramel-blond began to stir awake. His mouth parched from hanging open unattractively the entire night he'd been by all respects, drugged off his ass. And he groaned, reaching blindly for his canteen.

Once the sandpaper had been washed from his mouth and throat he began the slow process of stretching the stiffness out of his limbs so that he could actually _feel_ them. Although he was beginning to doubt the intelligence of that decision when they flared to life with an assault of sharp tingling.

Only then, sitting, did he bask in relief, a smile beginning to break large on his face. It had worked! No, he wasn't feeling one hundred percent rested again, but he'd slept at least another three more hours!

"But damn," he rubbed at his head with a lopsided grin, "less than thirty seconds and I'm out? That's pathetic."

He was so elated as he set out that morning, bound and determined to find himself that train station and get home, that he didn't notice the strange position of that magnetic pull to Scar that had made its reappearance after the tattoo had been acquired.

As the day dragged on, Alphonse passed around several hazily familiar small villages, knowing with their appearance that he was definitely on the right path. Not that he ever really doubted, but it was nice to have affirmations when you were in a place that looked generally the same no matter which direction you looked.

And as afternoon began to edge towards evening, Alphonse quickened his pace. He wasn't sure there would be a train leaving this late even if he could get to that town in time. But at least he'd be there and waiting for when a train _did_ leave.

"I can't wait to get home." Alphonse celebrated to himself. "At least Scar is taking care of the tattoo properly, and early on. A few more days and I should have nothing to worry about."

But that didn't mean he still wasn't tracking down Holly and sequestering her for a series of questions.

Uppermost in his mind being why he had started having those visions again not starting with Scar being in pain, but from merely walking? It didn't seem to suit the pattern. Especially since when he'd been there with Scar, or when Scar was nearby just over at that open-aired bar, he'd had no visions. He'd assumed it was because the man was healing.

But Scar had been healed then, before the tattoo. And he still saw.

"I guess a theory isn't a theory if there isn't room for new findings to be considered." Alphonse sighed as he hurried onward.

Only about two hours after the sun had set did Alphonse finally happen upon the town he needed. The one the only train came to in Ishbal. And it was as populated as he remembered with Ishballans and the few tourists from Amestris. Unfortunately even with a true peace treaty, Ishbal got far more attention from the Amestrian military soldiers still wandering the area than anything else.

But as long as they didn't try to suppress, the Ishballans merely seemed to overlook their presence in between trying to squeeze every coin of tourism money out of them that they could. Which seemed fair.

It didn't take Alphonse long to find the train station, he had vaguely recalled where it was. And was only slightly disappointed when he saw that the next train listed to depart would be when the 9:00 a.m. train arrived the next morning.

That meant that he'd be back home at least for dinner tomorrow.

And so Alphonse went in search of a reasonably priced inn to stay at for the night and perhaps find himself a decent meal at. He found one not too far from the train station and shelled out the funds for a small room for a single night of stay. Only once he had the room key secured in his grasp did he go in search of a meal which was brought back to the room to be eaten on the comforter covered bed.

"I hope you don't have lots of homework grading to do tomorrow night, Holly," Alphonse muttered in between bites of lo mein, "because I think I'm inviting myself to dinner."

After he had finished his dinner and indulged in a quick shower in the tiny cubicle of a bathroom where the hot water seemed non-existent, Alphonse collapsed down onto the bed with several bounces of his body before he settled. An arm was tossed over his eyes as his other hand searched blindly for the lamp switch.

Once the room was plunged into darkness, he let out a small, weary breath, and tried to relax.

As it turned out, Alphonse was only able to catch barely an hour of sleep when he finally was able to drift off. But what woke him up was not another vision, but rather the fact that whomever had the room to the right of his seemed intent not only on partying for themselves, but for the rest of the inn to hear as well.

Not even the lumpy pillow helped.

So when at last Alphonse found himself waiting dully for the train, it was needless to say that he was very much ready to get back home. He could only hope Scar was fine now. Tattoos weren't so bad… and he _had_ been properly tending to it right away.

A half hour later the train was ready to be boarded, and Alphonse was more than relieved to join in the queue to board. Once he had he found himself a reasonably isolated seat and flopped down into it.

"Good luck, Scar." Was all he murmured to himself as the train finally began to lurch its way out of the station.

And slumping against the seat and the window, Alphonse closed his eyes to the rocking and rattling of the bone-jarring train. Yet the lack of a comfortable ride over the rails was not the most surprising factor to consider when only minutes later, Alphonse unknowingly dropped off into sleep.

The caramel-blond slept, and slept, until the train began to break to pull into the stop for the day. And when trains threw on the break, they did it suddenly and without warning.

Which was how Alphonse Elric landed in an ungainly heap on the floor, groaning as he stirred to life.

Sitting himself up and rubbing at his head, Alphonse looked around in confusion, and then turned that confusion on himself. "I… slept?" And what was more, it had been a longer than three hour train ride and he'd had not one vision!

As Alphonse slumped back against where he'd been sitting, he let out a shaky chuckle through a slowly forming grin.

Needless to say, he was the subject of more than one concerned look when he finally heaved himself back properly onto his seat, a wide grin still plastered across his face. The last few minutes of the train ride he spent exulting over the fact that he'd actually slept past three hours without drugging himself like he'd drugged Scar.

But when it was time to depart the train, he quickly schooled himself into not looking as if he might have hit his head a bit too hard on that landing.

As soon as his feet hit the hard cement of the station platform, Alphonse quickly cut his way through the crowds to head home. The massive clock mounted above the departure and arrival times for the trains declared that Holly would most definitely be home by now. He needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes, and most likely a peace offering before he imposed on her tonight.

Even with having been able to sleep on the train, Alphonse had plenty of questions for the woman.

Upon arriving home, Alphonse took note of his overstuffed mailbox and emptied it into his arms before continuing up to his front door. Somehow managing to get in without dropping anything, he slammed the door shut behind him before continuing into the kitchen.

Setting his suitcase next to the table he dumped his armful of mail out onto the flat surface. Quickly he rummaged through it, trying to ascertain what bills might have arrived. That was one thing he disliked about leading a sedentary life now, the sudden existence of bills.

Once he'd organized the mess a bit, he headed up to his bedroom and subsequently the bathroom. He'd take proper care of the mail and his suitcase later.

After a thorough shower with a decent bar of soap, Alphonse found himself reveling in being able to wear clean clothes at long last. After having gotten more sleep, and now feeling entirely clean, he was rather cheerful as he took the stairs down two by two, hopping to the last floor.

Stepping into his living room, Alphonse immediately honed in on his telephone sitting on a round corner table that also housed a lamp. The message light was blinking, as expected, and he grinned to think of what he'd find as he ensconced himself in the armchair next to the table. Reaching over he punched in the correct code and one by one the messages began to play.

The first two were sales – deleted. The next was a business call – saved to deal with later. Another sales – deleted. And then finally, the crème de la crème he'd been waiting for – his brother's message.

He'd not been able to reach Edward before he left for Ishbal, and had been forced to leave a message.

And as the machine gave its precursory 'beep', Alphonse leaned avidly towards the telephone with a smirk.

"_If I didn't know you were completely sane, I'd wonder if you were insane. You left to go find Scar? I liked it better when I thought the man was dead. Don't scare me with the thought he's still out there. I swear, the only reason we escaped him so many times was because he was rattling off on one of his 'better than thou' speeches. Yeah, he saved your ass, barely. Roy! Stop that you insatiable – fuck! I'm trying to leave a message!_"

Alphonse rolled his eyes, snickering and shaking his head. He could only imagine, but really didn't want to know.

"_Sorry… but look, Al, you better know what you're doing. Because I'd rather hear you answer my questions than Holly, you know how teachers scare the shit out of me. Just call me back, you idiot._"

Alphonse decided to save the message, purely for entertainment value. Reaching for the phone he quickly punched in the long-memorized number to the home his brother shared with an aforementioned insatiable fuck.

The line rang a few times before the other end picked up.

"_Hello?_"

Alphonse smirked, "hi there, insatiable."

"_Hi, idiot. Alive and well, are we?_" Roy's voice sounded amused, but relieved.

"Ten fingers, eleven toes." He joked, "but seriously, Roy," Alphonse chuckled over the phone, the usage of the first name coming easy for him now after much practice, "I _did_ accompany brother on almost every mission, and could always beat him in a fight. Do try to have some confidence in my abilities."

"_I do. But I also saw what Scar was capable of, did you find him?_" Roy asked, and then he must have turned away from the receiver a bit because his "_down Fullmetal, I'm talking on the phone_" was slightly garbled.

Though distance seemed to have no effect on Edward's "_gimme the damn phone, Roy!_" that was being shouted.

Alphonse chuckled, honestly, he was glad it was Roy that was dealing with his brother like this. He wasn't sure any other person would ever be up for the task of having his spitfire brother as a lover. "Of course I found him. Now put brother on the phone before he kicks you in the balls. You know he would."

The reminder seemed to work, because when the next words came over the phone, they were purely Edward's.

"_Spill, now! Details! Are you okay? Did you find him?_"

"Mmm…" Alphonse hummed to draw it out with almost sadistic pleasure as a grin cracked onto his face at Edward's growl. "I'm fine. He only strangled me once."

"_WHAT?_"

Alphonse could actually agree with that sentiment, and he sighed. "Put me on speaker and I'll explain to the both of you at once."

His request was complied with, and for the next good forty minutes or so, Alphonse caught the two men up on everything. Including what had spurred his trip to go and find the dangerous Ishballan. And by the time he was finished, there was silence on the other end of the line.

At least until Edward seemed to find words for his thoughts again, "_you know, you're probably the only person in the world safe from him now. If he goes nuts again all we have to do is toss you in front of him._"

"He won't go nuts." Alphonse replied with quiet certainty. "He's not like he used to be. None of us are after what happened. And if he _were_ to go on a warpath, there's no guarantee that my having a part of his soul wouldn't register to him at the time as being… abnormal and in need of destruction."

"_He's right._" Roy spoke up. "_But I think we needn't worry. It sounds like he wants something different for himself now._"

"_But seriously, Al,_" Edward hurried on, "_if you ever do have to go see him again, give me more advance notice._"

Alphonse knew that if he did, he'd have Edward on his doorstep demanding to be allowed to come with him. And he smiled. "I'll think about it. But as you said, I may be the only person truly safe from him. He's tried to kill you more than me."

He spent a good ten minutes more talking with his brother and Roy before he finally begged off to call them again later, explaining he still needed to make a trip to Holly's place to get a few questions answered.

Once he hung up the phone he unfolded himself from the armchair with a joint-popping stretch and padded his way into the kitchen to grab his wallet out of his suitcase. He'd need to stop by the flower shop on his way over and pick out some of Holly's favorites.

He felt like he owed them to her after having woken her up at three in the morning.

So once he'd purchased a decently sized bouquet, he turned his steps towards Holly's place. He arrived in good time, and making his way up to the door rapped on it smartly several times before standing back to wait.

Not long later the door was pulled open, and Holly startled only once in surprise to see him before smiling. "I wasn't expecting you so soon. And look, you brought me flowers. It must have gone well."

Alphonse relinquished them to her grasp. "Yes… I guess. But I have more questions I thought you might be able to help me on."

"Details first. Questions second. I want to hear all about it." Holly decided executively, and reaching out grabbed Alphonse by his arm to yank him inside.


	10. Chapter 10

Insanity Breaking Point: Roy just has to exist to annoy Ed XD. It's the way they make things work.

Sonar: Scar doing random things is fun. I once had a daydream of him latin dancing, like on an exercise program... I dunno what I ate, but it was some powerful shit apparently.

MandaxPanda: If Scar does do something stupid, chances are Al will come and clobber him for it.

elemental heiress: Well, I can only hope that all your questions will be answered as we go. If I miss answering one by the stories end I'll feel very sad indeed.

Cheru-chan: You too lazy to log in? Well, at least you review anyway XD. And ooo... theories. Let's see if you're right. Just know that until Scar and Al figure things out together, everything has room for possibly needing reevaluation. And yay for Holly! I'm glad you like her.

GreedxEd: Another Holly fan! By the way, I was watching Envy whirl Greed around today and laughing my butt off... -runs-

gali-o: A pillow Al would be adorable. And if you're having trouble sleeping, I can't recommend anything that fast acting because I'd be worried it'd kill you, but try lavendar tea, and try taking calcium about an hour before bed. Calcium is a muscle relaxer, and your brain is a muscle.

GWings: He's being Scar... which in Al's book might mean Scar is about to get hit.

* * *

Now this is certainly a more productive way to spend my time. Instead of watching swamp soccer on mute while having caramelldansen on repeat for the audio. It's more amusing to me than it should be.

I hope you enjoy! ...and watch some swamp soccer with me!

* * *

Chapter Ten

Ten minutes after being yanked inside Holly's house, Alphonse found himself shoved into one of the velvety soft leather couches of the den, a cup of very strong green tea being pushed into his hands. And he could only smile at her eager manhandling of him.

"Start from the beginning." Holly ushered as she sat on the opposite end of the couch, pulling her feet up onto the cushion as she stared across at Alphonse. Her own cup of green tea dangled a bit forgotten in her right hand.

Alphonse took a moment to gather his thoughts, knowing he would be interrogated for details. And then he would be subjected to her gloating… either way he was in for a potentially painful, yet needed experience. Because he did need her to hear him out on his questions. "I started off looking for familiar surroundings, things I would have seen through Scar's eyes…"

And so Alphonse began to carefully tell her everything pertinent in order. From how he'd focused on only following the magnetic pull he felt connecting the two pieces of Scar's soul, up until he'd finally been able to get a few hours of undisturbed, true sleep on the train back home.

He had expected, at first, that Holly would have interrupted him frequently. Yet through the entire story, Holly stayed silent. Letting Alphonse get the story out in his own time. Only her facial expressions gave anything away that she might have wanted to say something, but she didn't. Only raised her cup of tea to her lips and sipped on it.

"So… you were right. Your theory." Alphonse told her, his tone verging between grateful and hesitant.

The smile Holly gave him after that comment could only be described as prideful happiness. It was nice to get recognition for her theories; it hadn't been as if she'd had any real concrete information to reference! And she'd been right! "Thank you." She grinned at him, "now don't you wish you'd come to me sooner, instead of taking sleeping pills?"

Alphonse partially stifled a groan, he'd known that would be coming sooner or later. He took a sip of his tea in a declaration of no comment.

Holly smirked at him, and decided she'd rescue the young man from his agony. "You said you had questions?" And she glanced towards one of the crystal lamps with thoughtful gray eyes. "I think I can guess about what… but tell me."

"I guess mostly I want to know if you have any idea why I started seeing visions again _before _Scar was in pain." Alphonse decided, knowing he'd get all his questions presented to her eventually, but this one was the one foremost on his mind.

Holly tapped a finger to her cup of tea a few times before she slid around to get off of the couch. She didn't answer right away, instead going over to the small writing desk to draw from it some paper and a pen which she brought back over. Her tea was set on the floor, and she sat down to curl into the arm of the couch, balancing the paper on the leather surface. "One moment." She requested, and quickly began to write.

Alphonse let her, peering over at the paper, but unable to make out the words. And he waited until she seemed to have finished writing, only to begin on what looked like a complex diagram.

Holly stared at the paper, tapping it a few times with her pen before looking over at Alphonse. "That's the wrong question to start with."

The look Alphonse gave her was entirely perplexed. "How can there be a right or a wrong question? They either have theoretical answers or they don't."

Holly smacked him over the head with the paper.

"Hey!" Alphonse protested, ducking in on himself as he tried not to spill his tea all over his pants.

"Have I not yet earned just a little bit of blind faith here, Alphonse? Start at the _beginning_." Holly demanded of him, settling back in with her paper and pen. She couldn't bypass the opportunity to get some documentation down. But it wasn't her notes thus far telling her that Alphonse had asked the wrong question. It was the same exact thing that had led her to theorize about Alphonse harboring a piece of Scar's soul.

"I guess first, although relating to that, that magnetic pull I felt? It came back after Scar got that tattoo." Alphonse had already told her all of this, but he hadn't exactly phrased it in questions yet. Wanting to get the details told first as demanded. But now he was under a different set of demands. "He's been taking care of it properly, I know he has, so why hasn't the pull let up again?"

Holly couldn't help but feel that Alphonse was overlooking information he already knew that would give him his answers, but she sat silent. She'd wait, until he was through, and he'd asked all his questions. Because sometimes the answers to the questions just happened to be right there in front of you, you just needed someone else to tell you to look again.

"And why when I was with him did I have no visions? The times I slept while with him were the only times I'd slept peacefully since the start of it all. Even if he was awake, I didn't see anything. Even when he was still not fully healed and awake." Alphonse continued on, and then took a long sip of his tea.

"And?" Holly prompted, sensing there was something else by his fascination with the tea… and judging by the way Alphonse now folded his legs up in on himself like a barrier before his chest, it was something more personal.

"I asked him something while I was there… asked him what I meant to him. Why he treated _treats_ me the way he does." Alphonse stared ahead at the dormant fireplace, letting his words piece themselves together in their own thoughtful time. "Some of it was pity, why he saved me. And when I asked, it was evidence enough by his expression that he wouldn't have done for anyone else what he did for me. It kind of explained for me, in a way, how his soul might have split and fused part of it to me."

"And what answer did he give to why he treats you the way he does?" Holly pressed gently, her gray eyes growing calculatingly thoughtful as she watched Alphonse's posture and expression carefully.

"He said he didn't know. But that I was never like the others… that I was the one person he'd bend the rules for, even if he never would consider me a friend." Alphonse answered, his forehead leaning down to rest against his knees. "And I was. I was the only unnatural thing he didn't try to kill every time we met. He fucking _saved my life_. When all his past creeds dictated he should have let me die."

"There's always an exception to the rule." Holly replied as she watched her friend closely still. "You are his exception. He may not consider you a friend, but he sees something in you worth letting live."

Alphonse gave a dry laugh, raising his head with a tired breath. "For which I've been grateful more than once. My brother said if he ever goes nuts again, all they have to do is toss me in front of him."

Holly smiled, "well we might dress you up a little first. Make you a pretty sacrificial lamb."

Alphonse shot her a withering look that caused her to crack a wider smile.

"You did ask the right question, though." Holly attempted to pacify her guest. "Why you could not see the visions while you were with him. Going on some facts we're assuming to be true based on the outcome of your trip to find and heal Scar, we can assume that proximity has another factor on the two pieces of Scar's soul. Although he was awake while you were asleep, and possibly not fully healed, the two pieces of his soul were still close enough that they could function as one."

"So the part he held, that had been calling out to the part I held for help, wasn't feeling the need to call any longer with visions?" Alphonse put together, then frowned. "But how does that explain why I could feel that magnetic pull between the two parts whenever Scar was a certain distance away from me?"

Holly tilted her head to one side in consideration. "That only happens while you're awake, yes?"

"Yeah."

"Potentially the two parts of his soul did not see a need to be as aggressive with the healing process already going, despite distance. That it instead defaulted to just the pull between the two pieces, because you both were within a certain proximity of each other. Now there's really no way to know what that distance is, or even whether or not that theory is right, not unless you go back there and experiment with him. But from what I've heard, he doesn't seem the type." Holly finished wryly.

"Not really, no." Alphonse chuckled softly. "He'd probably toss me out his front door again."

"And you said that now the magnetic pull is back?" Holly switched topics quickly, jotting down something more to her paper about her one of a kind case study.

"Yes." Alphonse agreed with a bit of a grimace. He could feel it, a faint subconscious pull in his mind. If he focused on it, it would feel in more prominence to him, and feel stronger. "It started after my first vision after leaving him. But on the train back I was able to sleep without any visions, and without drugging myself on that tea. So either he was asleep at the same time, or he was in close enough range of me. Which I just don't see possible, he'd never follow me back here."

Holly pursed her lips, pushing an errant bundle of messy red hair back behind her ear where it belonged. "For simplicities sake, we'll assume for right now that he was asleep. Because going on the one past experience, you realized a lack of that pull when you left, when Scar was healed. So based on that we can only assume his new tattoo is still not completely healed."

"It does take a while for one to heal on its own, especially one that size." Alphonse muttered, figuring that he must have gotten lucky and fallen asleep at the same time Scar had been.

"Now this first vision you had, it wasn't one of Scar in pain. It didn't start with him in pain? Or was there a time lapse in which you woke up, cursed about having to see him wandering through a desert, and then fell back asleep?"

"There was no time lapse." Alphonse answered through a partial smile he couldn't help. "At least, I didn't wake up. It's like I'm being sent the visions in bits and pieces, but all at once. You know, kind of how like dreams only last a few seconds compared to the hours they feel?"

Holly nodded, but jotted that information down as well, just to have written record of it. "So he was in pain by the end of it?"

"Yes, damn him. He could at least have had the decency to wait until morning." Alphonse sighed, shaking his head in an annoyed fashion. "I told him he was disrupting my sleep with the things. He didn't think I'd be sleeping that night?"

"From what I understand of the Ishbalan culture," Holly began, "and help me out here if I need it, but anything relating to alchemy is forbidden. Seems to me the acquiring of such a tattoo would be as well. Things like that usually, unfortunately, have to be conducted in secret times."

Alphonse nodded slowly, looking off towards the floor to his left and away from her. "The man who did it to him, I recognized him. He'd been exiled for straying from the Great Arcanum and towards an interest in alchemy. They mark the people who do, to keep them in exile and keep purer Ishbalans away from their purported evil. Why they never marked Scar… well," he gave a small, actually very much amused laugh, "they were probably too scared to try and touch him, even while he was hurt like he was. He sure lifted me around like a rag doll."

"Plus I imagine he was a bit of a hero to them." Holly suggested, not knowing the full details that Alphonse surely did about that time period and its events. There were just things the public had not been told… and some things she'd not pressed Alphonse for, for various reasons.

"It's possible." Alphonse shrugged. "No one in that village seemed to outwardly hate him. I could tell though that they feared what he could do. Especially after he caught me in our little chase before I actually left. A lot of the expressions I saw made me believe _they_ couldn't believe how I'd gotten away without being throttled. And then minutes later he punched someone so hard I expect they're still unconscious, just because the guy was harassing me. He doesn't _need_ alchemy, he's dangerous enough without it."

"Except for you." Holly pointed out.

"He strangled me!" Alphonse whipped around to stare at her with wide eyes, as if she'd forgotten this crucial part. "He kept petting my hair and…" he broke off abruptly with a shiver of lingering fear brought on by the memory. "I couldn't let him touch me for a long time afterwards… and I still can't let him touch anywhere near my head. He really frightened me."

Holly had heard long before she even met Alphonse, what the man called Scar could do. What he did do. All the murder victims having had their brain blown to bits inside their skull. She could imagine, that Alphonse, having been attacked before by Scar, and having seen firsthand what he could do, would have been all the more terrified as opposed to someone who'd only heard about it.

"But yes," Alphonse curled in on himself, "getting that alchemy tattoo is against the Ishbalan way. But he doesn't care… he goes about his cultures religion in his own way."

Holly didn't have to be intelligent to recognize the clear sign Alphonse wanted to move on, away from the subject of Scar tormenting him. "He probably had no choice then, but to get the tattoo at night."

"So why do you think I started out having the vision during a time he wasn't in pain?" Alphonse asked.

Holly turned her focus towards the fireplace, watching the empty grate as she thought about it. "The part of Scar's soul that Scar still keeps wanted you to… perhaps to give you forewarning of what was about to happen. Or maybe he just had a rock in his shoe. It had a reason… and being that you're the one who probably knows Scar the best, you're the only one who can ever really figure out the true reasons for whatever vision you see."

"I think I'm probably the only one who wanted to know him." Alphonse divulged softly to her, "and I wanted him to see _me_ as I was, for who I was. I wanted to know if he could see me, feel that I _was_ human, even if I didn't have a human body at the time. I felt like, if he, who had vowed to rid the world of unnatural creations, could see that I _was_ human despite my appearance, that maybe I was. I… I was having a major moment of doubt at the time."

"And were you human to him?" Holly asked gently.

Alphonse smiled then, his eyes a bit wet looking. "I was."

Holly smiled as she watched her friend, and setting her pen aside, she scooted across the couch to wrap her arms around the caramel-blond and hug him tightly. "And he claims he doesn't think of you as a friend."

Alphonse chuckled, rubbing at his eyes a bit before hugging her back. "I know, right? The idiot."

"Yeah, he's an idiot." Holly smiled as she hugged him a bit longer, pulling away at last just to ruffle his hair affectionately. "Come on, Alphonse, you're taking me out to dinner to celebrate my being right."

Alphonse laughed, but groaned all the same. "I suppose you earned it."

"Damn right I did. And it's not like _I_ can afford a nice dinner on a teacher's salary. So up, blondie, up." Holly clapped her hands smartly as she hopped up off the couch.

Which was how Alphonse ended up seated across from his friend at an outdoor patio table of one of the nicer restaurants in town. In fact, a place that normally required a reservation, six months in advance. But Alphonse was on the VIP list thanks to a certain Roy Mustang who had brought he and Edward there once. Now if he showed up, a table was found for him.

"You could have told me we were coming _here_." Holly hissed at him after the waiter who had so helpfully put her fine linen napkin in her lap _for_ her had vanished.

Alphonse smirked at her, knowing why she was so irked. She was still in her teaching attire, while every other female around on the patio was in a fancy dress and pearls. It wasn't like he was dressed any better, but he didn't mind as much. He hadn't pre-planned this, and the only reason he'd decided, very evilly, to bring her here, was to get back at her for her bragging rights. "You look lovely." He reassured her.

Holly glowered at him, causing her friend to break out into sniggers of laughter. "You're evil, Alphonse Elric. Pure evil."

Alphonse smirked, "if I am, blame Ed." Was all he said to it before accepting the wine list that was handed to him by the waiter now at his side. "I somehow doubt that's going to stop you anyway, Holly."

Holly watched as Alphonse seamlessly gave their wine order, as well as a selection for the first course. Something she wasn't opposed to him choosing… she recognized nothing on the menu anyway. "How exactly did you get on their VIP list anyway?"

"Roy." Alphonse replied simply.

That explained it all, and Holly smiled, suddenly drawing herself up into her element. "Well, since you are so nice as to indulge me in a place like this, I want to try at least three desserts."

Alphonse laughed openly, grinning at her. "Be my guest, this _is_ your reward."

Holly smirked at him as she fiddled her menu open again. "I do believe I earned it. I still can't quite get over the fact that I was right! Well," she paused, "not exactly that I was _right_, more than I am excited that I was right that such a thing is possible! You do realize how unique this is, don't you?"

Alphonse smiled at her, everything considered, he was glad she was happy with her success. "Believe me, I do. Thank you. You probably saved me a lot of grief."

"And sleeping pills." Holly snorted, unimpressed yet amused all at once.

"I only ask that if you ever publish your findings, that you leave out the real names." Alphonse told her, just in case. "I have enough of a reputation already without bringing more attention to my name."

"Don't worry." Holly chuckled as she tried to make sense out of the entrées, "I doubt Scar would appreciate that, and you're the one he bends rules for, not me."

Alphonse knew how true that was… Scar didn't seem the type to take kindly to his name being printed alongside what had happened. Mostly Alphonse's concern though, no matter what he told Holly, was to keep Scar safe.

The waiter returned with their wine, and after Alphonse approved of it, the bottle was left on the table as the waiter took their orders before rushing off to the kitchen to place them.

"You seem surprisingly accustomed to this sort of environment." Holly remarked after the waiter had left.

Alphonse shrugged a bit, swirling his wine in its fine crystal glass in an absent manner. "Roy told me one day that he was going to educate me, just in case, he said. Just in case I ever had to be in an environment like this because of his position, I'd not feel like I had six feet and four arms."

"The things I learn about you, even after this long." Holly shook her head. "You're one surprise after another, just when I think I've got you finally figured out."

"Probably why I could never keep a relationship going." Alphonse smiled at his wine, and took a sip of it before looking across the table at her. "My boyfriends never knew who exactly they were dating."

Their entrées arrived after a while, and the two of them fell away from conversation to fall into the indulgent act of eating their overly-priced meals. And once that had been accomplished, Holly gleefully ordered three desserts as forewarned, and made Alphonse order his own.

All four desserts were polished off quickly.

Alphonse paid their bill, and not long later they left the restaurant as the extra table was put back into storage until the next time it would be needed. By now, Holly was so full of food that her glee that had been rampant during the desserts, was a bit more muted.

"Are you still coming to the fall festival at the school?" Holly asked as they walked home. "The kids are really wanting to see you again. They keep asking."

"Me and part of Scar." Alphonse joked. "I can't imagine why they'd want to see me again so much."

Holly snorted, "surely not because those who had you as their chaperone for the zoo field trip got to sneak off with you to go ride around in a cart you piled with hay and hitched a team of Oryx to in order to drive them around past all the other kids. They keep hoping you'll show up with something like that again and they'll all get to do it."

"I can't help it that the zoo director owes brother a favor for getting him the opportunity to have those Oryx." Alphonse grinned. "And you're the one who begged me to be a chaperone because the parents weren't volunteering like you expected."

"I'm also the one begging you to come to the fall festival." Holly grimaced. "Just make sure that you don't bring anything potentially deadly with you."

Alphonse rolled his eyes, "don't worry. I plan to just bring myself and a wallet so I can buy those healthy snacks you offer out for the kids… what was it last year you said? Cotton candy and such?"

"Cotton candy and caramel apples." Holly sighed. "Sometimes I don't understand the rest of the faculty."

"You can always give the kids on a sugar high what you gave me to knock Scar out." Alphonse suggested. "Should only take about a second for it to work on them, I was out in about ten." He grumped, not at all impressed with that.

Holly snickered at the admission, though she could have guessed. "You are a bit of a lightweight."

"Shut up." Alphonse grumbled as she continued to snicker.

When they reached Holly's house, Alphonse parted ways from her with a hug. Once he made sure she got inside safely he turned with a tired exhale for home. He was looking forward to curling up in a real bed with a book and waiting for that to lure him into sleep.

He was fairly happy to reach home a while later, and he let himself in through his front door, locking himself in before heading to his bedroom. There he shucked off his clothes, grabbed his pajama bottoms from the foot of his bed to tug those up and on before he headed into the bathroom to take care of a few matters before he crawled into bed.

And his bed had never felt so soft and inviting before. With an indulgent, happy purr of a noise he slipped under the covers while grabbing his latest reading venture from the bedside table.

"Where was I…" he murmured to himself as he flipped through to find his bookmark.

After finding it he began to read until as reading before bed always did to him, his eyes began to cross trying to read the words. He finished the paragraph he was on before marking the book once more and setting it aside. Flipping off the lamp he scooted down in his bed to curl up properly on it, almost completely covered by his comforter.

"I sure hope you're sleeping, Scar." Alphonse muttered into the darkness, releasing a weary mix of a yawn and a sigh. "But I hope you're doing okay."

If Scar wasn't asleep, he figured he'd soon know anyway just how Scar was doing.

He lay awake for a while longer, his thoughts having found a focus on the man whose soul he held a part of. It was strange… going from having believed for so long that Scar was dead, to know he was alive. To be able to feel it in the evidence of the magnetic pull that tugged towards the east. And he wondered, for a brief moment before he fell into sleep, what it would feel like inside him when Scar died. When that piece of Scar's soul inside him died as well.

He dared not think about what would happen if he were to die first.


	11. Chapter 11

MandaxPanda: I've never seen any voice actors, so I'll just revel in how cool a coincidence that is. I really am glad that Holly has been so well-received. She's just got that little something special to her.

FablerPhoenix: If you ever start a Holly fanclub, I'm sure that you'd have more than one person wanting to join. I really am so happy that's she's been so liked. And oh dear, now you're giving me thoughts for crack fics where I tie Al like that in front of Scar. "No, bad Scar, no trying to kill. Look! An Al! Good Scar." And don't worry, Scar shows up soon. And I know what you mean, we need to see Al as more than an angelic fluffball sometimes. The kid has got balls, in many implications of the word. He should be allowed to use them.

Sonar: I think you'll soon be getting your chapter wish of more Scar.

elemental heiress: Al is like Roy, except he more secretely has the world on a string. No one suspects him because it's well, Al. Everyone suspects Roy. And I'd have been so happy if I'd ever had a teacher like Holly... she's just cool.

GWings: I'm sure you'll enjoy when we get to that part about Scar learning Al's preferences, and his progressive reactions to Al's dates.

Cheru: Think of who Holly reminds you of yet? And yeah, I was really tempted to make him as bi... but I guess I wanted to go for something different with him this time around. But oh yes, rough play between them is very much encouraged... Scar has to keep up his muscle strength after all, and what better attention-holding way for him?

GreedxEd: There was a reason that in elementary school if I had to buy lunch I'd always say I "forgot" mine, so they'd give me a peanut butter and honey sandwich instead. Not only do I love them, but it's hard to mess that up.

Insanity Breaking Point: Ed's life would be so much duller without Roy... and without the coming knowledge that Scar is in close-quarters with his defenseless baby brother.

Six Ways From Thursday: Thank you. I have met a lot of people so far who share the same mindset as you, Roy/Ed fan, love Al, sometimes they love Scar/Al as well, but more often than not they hadn't thought about it before. So I'm glad that I'm pulling it off so far. They're a pairing that I just can't help but adore. And I never get tired about hearing if someone loved the chicken scene, I was amused just thinking about it before I wrote it, so it's nice to know my humor sometimes pans out. As to the hyper kids, yeah, experience there. I was in an Education program at university one year... student taught in four different grades. Nightmare.

marnariddle: Thank you. And what is it with that date thing and the other party not liking to spoil you a bit? I don't get that sharing thing... I'm a girl who wants a full dessert. Or duck entree, the guy should never suggest to cut costs by splitting my duck entree.

ZemyxDexion: Thank you. And yeah... I've been there before. The just Winry and Marta/tel thing... but I figured it was time for me to put Al with who I really like with him. So I hope it keeps going well.

* * *

I'm so glad I finally had time to work on this again! I was going through Scar/Al withdrawals badly... I even dreamed about them last night. Granted that dream should not be repeated here... -cough-, but you get the point.

So, onto the chapter! Wherein I hope you all enjoy, and no tears are shed.

* * *

Chapter Eleven

The next two days passed without too much incident.

Alphonse had happily been having full nights of sleep. He could only suspect it was because Scar had to be sleeping at the same time at last. Finally, the Ishballan appeared to have a proper sleeping schedule. And he wondered if the man had taken _his_ ability to sleep into the decision, but didn't dwell on it too much. He was too glad to be able to begin feeling normal again.

The magnetic pull to the other portion of Scar's soul was still with him. If he focused on it he could bring it into more prominence. So he could only imagine that while that tattoo was healing, it was not a complete process yet.

The only visible reminder of his trip to find the dangerous Ishballan were the bruises that had come out along his neck for about a day, and then begun to finally fade. Clearly the man had bruised him far from the surface of his skin, which only made him realize how lucky he was that Scar hadn't gripped harder. A bit more pressure and he suspected his neck would have snapped.

Otherwise Alphonse felt his life had gone pretty much back to normal.

And at the moment he was embracing his normal life by returning to work at the upscale bar that he owned in the business district of East Central. Finding that while his employees had done well without his being there, they were as glad as he that he was back.

It had always been a business decision that his brother had never really understood. Out of all the things that he could do, he'd chosen to run an upscale bar establishment. According to Edward, it was the thing most far from his personality.

But that was exactly why he'd chosen it.

He wanted to succeed at something away from his normal life. To know that he wasn't just a one-trick pony who could only do alchemy or befriend stray animals.

Roy, on the other hand, had wholeheartedly supported his decision from the beginning and not questioned it.

Alphonse figured it had something to do with how much the man liked his alcohol. Not that the Fuhrer was an alcoholic, but he knew that Roy liked to drink when he found it appropriate.

Presently he was taking the inventory of the stock that had come in as part of a shipment that had been received while he was away. Not that he didn't trust his staff to take responsibility for making sure every last bottle was accounted for, they knew he didn't doubt them. It was just that he liked to know for himself personally.

He had just finished ticking off the checkboxes for the wines when Abigail, one of the waitresses who'd been with him since about the time he'd opened the doors to the bar, came inside the chilled cellar room.

"You've a phone call, sir. Would you like me to finish up in here?" She asked, rubbing her arms against the chill in the air.

Alphonse smiled as he began to count the cases of beers. "Is it an urgent call?"

Abigail walked over to his side, peering over at the inventory sheet. "Well it's from a General Hasa-something over at Eastern Command. He wouldn't give me specifics, you know how it is."

"Hastion." Alphonse provided as his eyes flicked over the labels. "No… I'll finish after the call. It shouldn't take too long." But he handed his clipboard to her anyway as she promptly reached out for it. "Thanks."

And he let himself out of the chilled cellar, heading down the ambient lighted hallway with its pine floors and trimming and cream-colored walls decorated with the wrought iron lamp fixtures. As he reached his office he let himself inside before walking over to pick up the receiver as he sat on the edge of his desk.

"Alphonse Elric speaking." He answered into the receiver as his eyes darted over the calendar on his desk, idly making a mental note that he should schedule an extra ice delivery this week.

"_This is General Hastion._" Came the formalized response, even though calls between the military and Alphonse Elric were not uncommon. "_I apologize for disturbing you at work, Mister Elric – _"

Alphonse couldn't help thinking that 'Mister Elric' made him sound like his brother.

"_But we've detained a man at the train station_,_ and he's been demanding to see you. Won't stop harassing the military officers detaining him about it. Won't answer any questions until he does._"

Alphonse frowned, "why did you detain him?"

"_Because he bears similarities to an Ishballan man that was involved in the killings of military officers back several years. I believe his name was Scar._"

Alphonse dropped the phone. He didn't even recognize that he had as he stared wide-eyed in front of him before he scrambled for the phone again. It wasn't possible! What the hell would _Scar_ be doing here? It had to be a mistake. Mistaken identity. "That's impossible. Scar wouldn't come here, and he certainly wouldn't be nice to anyone trying to detain him."

"_Be that as it may, Mister Elric, if you could just spare some of your time to come down to the train station and give us a positive or negative identification it would solve quite a few problems._"

Alphonse however wasn't listening. Instead he'd found himself instinctively drawing on that magnetic pull, and felt something inside him falter as he realized that the pull, instead of being more southward as it should be, it felt far more near. And he barely registered saying a quickened, "I'll be right there," before he was tossing the receiver back into the cradle and dashing off of his desk.

He barely remembered to tell his head bartender that he was leaving and would be back shortly before he raced out the door. It smacked shut haphazardly behind him long after he'd begun running down the sidewalk towards the train station.

Not even knowing or caring why he was in such a heart-pounding hurry to know if it truly was the grouchy Ishballan.

Alphonse reached the train station in record time, somewhat out of breath, but all the same he had gotten there in less than ten minutes. As he worked on catching his breath he looked around for the navy blue uniform of the military, and once he'd spotted it he hurried in that direction.

"Mister Elric, there you are."

Alphonse barely nodded to the uniformed man who, though he'd never met, clearly at least knew who he was. Instead he immediately got straight to the point. "Where is he?"

The military officer hesitated a moment, before twisting to nod towards one of the tile inlayed walls of the train station. "Over there."

Not as if Alphonse had really needed the assistance, he'd already reached out instinctively to feel that pull between the two pieces of Scar's soul. And he stepped around the military officer slowly even as the man moved aside.

This… this was impossible.

There was no mistaking the irritated Ishballan standing against the wall looking murderous. "Scar…" the name slipped from his lips laced in shock and some measure of disbelief. And suddenly he stood still no longer as he shoved his way at a near run past every single military officer between he and the Ishballan until he was under the observation of red eyes.

"And here I was about to think they were completely incompetent." Scar growled, though any anger in his tone was not meant for the brat before him. "What took you so long?"

"What do you mean, what took me so long?" Alphonse shot back with wide eyes. Still not quite believing what he was seeing. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Scar suddenly reached out to grab Alphonse by his arm, ignoring the way the military officers started forward in alarm as he bore his gaze down into a startled amber one. "You and those damn cow eyes."

Alphonse didn't even have time to formulate an indignant retort when Scar was shoved away from him roughly by three of the military officers. Granted they weren't able to get the imposing Ishballan more than a few inches, but as soon as he realized, and realized the danger those men could be in, quickly lunged after them. "No!"

The military officers stumbled back as they were shoved away.

Alphonse didn't even check to see if they managed to keep their balance, he'd somehow ended up instead with a grip on Scar's right arm as he met the questioning, if not still incensed gaze of those red eyes. "Don't hurt them, please." He beseeched as softly, yet urgently as he could.

Scar felt most of his anger towards the imbecilic military officers who'd dared detain him begin to fade away at the worried look in those amber eyes. "If I wanted to hurt them, I'd have done it the moment they began this detainment farce. I'd not have demanded to see you."

"Why?" Alphonse demanded in his confusion, still not letting go of Scar's arm. "What are you doing here?"

Scar sent a despising glare towards the gathered military, pleased to see that they seemed to shrink into themselves just a little. "Just turn your big cow eyes on them and convince them to let me go, and I'll tell you."

"I've not got cow eyes!" Alphonse flared up in insistence.

Scar looked back at him to smirk. "Would you prefer I call them doe or puppy eyes? You're about the size of a puppy." He estimated.

Alphonse released Scar's arm in order to smack his shoulder, though he doubted he'd managed to even make a bruise. "Shut up!"

Scar lifted one eyebrow just a bare enough amount to make Alphonse flush a little. "Are you going to do it or not?"

Alphonse leveled a glare at him that was met with a stony, yet mocking expression on Scar's end. "Just… don't say anything and wait here."

With that, Alphonse turned away to engage the military officers who had been in charge of the detainment. And he trusted Scar to behave himself as he walked the few steps over to where they'd been hovering.

"So he is Scar?" The officer who seemed to be in charge of the whole thing asked with a wary glint to his eyes. Everyone in the military eventually heard the stories of the Ishballan man who'd once made a hobby out of turning State Alchemists brains into mush.

Alphonse straightened his cufflinks a moment as he studied the group before answering. "Yes. I'll be taking him now. I've identified him as was wanted, he can be released."

"But, sir!" One of them quickly spoke up in protest. "This man is a killer! He can't just be allowed to walk the streets!"

"Take it up with the Fuhrer. But Scar is coming with me." Alphonse argued through narrowing eyes. "Unless you of course want to take the chance of trying to keep him imprisoned. I can tell you from personal experience though that it won't go well for you. I at least have the assurance that he won't hurt me, but do you?"

"Even with your association with the Fuhrer you are still a civilian, you can't just take a known murderer back out onto the streets!" The one in charge spoke up sternly. "Especially an Ishballan! And you have no authority to – "

Alphonse eyes were snapping in cold fury as he shook out his hand, not really caring that he'd just hauled off and decked an officer of the military. Oh no, his concerns were for something else entirely. "And _you_ have no authority to insult the Ishballans! A murderer is a murderer, and a fucking _jerk_ is a fucking jerk! No matter where they come from! You're not any better than Scar!"

Scar could only stand there, stunned, as he watched Alphonse haul off verbally on the man who was nursing a jaw that would surely swell and bruise nicely. Until it became clear that he might need to step in, lest Alphonse hit the ignorant ass again.

Not that he wasn't enjoying the sight.

"The Fuhrer shall hear of this!" The military officer threatened, swearing as he tried to cup his already swelling jaw through smarting eyes.

"I sincerely hope so!" Alphonse shot back, right before he was yanked backwards with a startled squeak into a strong grip around his middle.

"I think you've made your point, little one." Scar growled loudly enough for all of them to hear. "Let's go."

Alphonse struggled fruitlessly to get out of the hold Scar had, not at all satisfied yet. "Scar! Let me go!"

Scar rolled his eyes, and while he mentally had to be grateful to Alphonse's efforts on his behalf, it was clear that they were getting nowhere fast. And he didn't want to be breaking bread with the damn military for much longer or he feared he might consider whether or not he'd be pardoned a few more deaths. "We're leaving." He announced in a general fashion, and switched his hold to around Alphonse's upper arm to begin hauling the spitting mad youngest Elric towards the exit.

"Wait! You can't – "

"Try and stop me, and he's dead." Scar shot back over his shoulder to the officer who'd bravely attempted to speak up. And with that, he turned back around to keep hauling Alphonse forward, lowering his voice to say, "just keep walking or _they_ will be."

Alphonse looked up at him with a suspicious frown. "I thought I'd told you to wait where you were? And didn't you hear me tell them you wouldn't hurt me?"

Scar snorted mirthlessly, "you think they're paid well enough to chance it? You seem to have some value to them."

"And you didn't decide to wait and let me use that to my advantage because…?"

"As heartwarming as it was to watch you defend my honor as an Ishballan," Scar drawled, "this is far more fun."

Alphonse's expression didn't lose any of its suspicion as he looked up at Scar through narrowed eyes. "That doesn't surprise me, actually, coming from you." And for the rest of the 'kidnapping' out of the train station, he was silent. Waiting until they'd gotten across the street before he shook Scar's hand off him, reminded again how much easier it was to do now that the man wasn't opposed to letting him go.

And he turned to stare up at the man in uncertainty. "What ever happened to wanting me gone so you wouldn't risk hurting me?"

Scar's eyes narrowed, and for a moment he looked away to release a hard breath before striding around Alphonse and down the sidewalk. "I had nowhere else to go."

Alphonse whipped around to stare after him, new confusion bubbling up inside of him at the bitter words. "Wait… what?" And he quickly trotted after the man to catch up, peering around and up at him. "Scar, what…?"

"You asked why I came here?" Scar demanded of the caramel-blond, "I didn't know where else to go."

Alphonse worried his hair a moment with one hand as he tried to understand. "Scar, talk sense a minute!" He exclaimed, getting nowhere fast. "What happened?"

"Don't play innocent, Alphonse," Scar suddenly snapped as he jerked to a halt, and he abruptly raised his right arm. "I know you saw."

Alphonse's eyes hardened as he shoved Scar's arm aside, instead yanking down the threadbare coat the man had on in order to reveal the bandages wrapped securely around that very same arm. "At least you really have been taking proper care of it." He said mildly, resting one hand on the bandages at the same time he looked up into an unreadable crimson gaze. "Why did you do it?"

Scar shook the hand off, snapping his jacket back up over his shoulders. "It's who I am."

Alphonse didn't respond for a time, only stood there, gazing back up into those red eyes he'd thought he'd seen the last of in Ishbal. "But you're a good man." He replied at last, wondering if he'd ever stop feeling confused. And softly, he asked, "they exiled you because of this?"

"It was a choice between killing many of them, or leaving. And as I've always done, I left." Scar replied shortly, feeling rather uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I don't want to bring the Ishballans trouble."

"But why this time? It's not right!"

Scar actually felt a twitch of a smile at Alphonse's clear indignant anger on his behalf. "Can't say. All I know is that the moment I was seen with that tattoo, I was driven out of town. Willingly. You know no one could have made me do anything against my will, and that village would have been a graveyard if I'd wanted to stay that badly and murder my own kind."

Alphonse shook his head slowly, before worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "But then, how did the military corner you? And why'd you even let them detain you?"

"I had to find you, didn't I?" Scar answered simply.

Alphonse was taken aback a moment, before, slowly, "you weren't just… using me? You… _wanted_ to see me?"

"It's not that!" Scar snapped, offended that Alphonse might think he wanted to willingly subject himself in an amiable manner to his tormenting ways. "I'm only here because I had nowhere else to go! On my way out of town I realized that despite why I want to keep away from you – "

"You won't hurt me." Alphonse interjected with a slip of humor in his tone.

" – I'll have to take my chances." Scar glared at him for interrupting. "I've seen the trouble you can get yourself into, and I'll be damned if I let you waltz around with part of my soul and not be there to look after it. I'd rather not die because you do something stupid and wind up dead and dragging me with you. So here I regrettably find myself."

Alphonse fought off an indignant retort about his apparent troublemaking talent, instead beginning to smile.

"What?" Scar frowned suspiciously.

"See, you won't hurt me. You care about what happens to me." Alphonse began to smile wider.

Scar tried not to feel flustered at Alphonse's happiness, instead growling out a, "my soul, not you. So I figure this is as good a place as any for me to have come. Start a new life and keep an eye on the rest of what belongs to me."

Alphonse rolled his eyes, not at all put out. "Stop growling at me and come on." He said, turning around to begin heading off cheerfully with a bounce to his step. Not at all able to comprehend why he felt happy about the fact his life had probably just taken a screeching turn for more complicated. "And I swear that if you start scaring away my customers, or even my staff, I'm locking you in my office."

Scar debated tailing the impertinent brat, just to protest this idea that he was going to willingly go wherever Alphonse apparently deemed appropriate, when he actually took a good look at him. Without recognizing the fact that he'd even started after him to catch up, he was beside Alphonse. Looking him over with eyes that for some reason only now really _saw_ him. "What exactly are you wearing?"

Alphonse blinked once, and then looked down at himself, wondering if he'd accidentally gone to work in his most worn-out pair of pajamas and no one had bothered to tell him. But no, no pajamas. And he looked over at Scar to say hesitantly, not entirely sure if this was some sort of strange joke. "A suit?"

"You have never struck me as a suit-wearing man." Scar muttered as he took a good long look up the black dress pants, the impeccably cut black suit jacket over a blindingly white collared shirt. Even Alphonse's caramel-blond hair had been groomed back to be bound in a black tie.

Alphonse surprised himself by bursting out in laughter. "Up until a week or so ago you only knew me as a hunk of steel." And he smirked over at Scar. "I dress like this when I go into work. Or have a date."

Scar weighed his options for a moment before choosing, "I find myself genuinely curious now what kind of shop it is that you own. The suit is… not fitting to anything I could ever picture you as doing."

"One of the classier bars of East Central." Alphonse related with a humored smile, knowing well how many people viewed that particular occupation for him. "I only sell the highest qualities, which means my prices are high. Which also means I, and my staff, dress the part."

Scar did not say anything to that for several minutes as he tried to wrap his head around it. And then he decided that this was, albeit not what he would have ever expected, at least not something that would be liable to make him want to explode Alphonse's head. Yet this did present an intriguing opportunity… "what would it take to get me a free drink?"

Alphonse actually considered, a calculating gleam of enjoyment entering his amber eyes before he looked sideways up at the man. "Promise you'll keep going to bed at a decent hour and you may have one free drink a day. I know how much you can drink, and I am not giving you an open tab. I want you to do something worthwhile with yourself, remember?"

"I'll figure out something." Scar muttered, remembering the conversation very well indeed. Knowing that Alphonse had suggested a decent idea that afternoon, but whether or not anyone here would trust him in that capacity? He doubted it. "But I still plan to keep an eye on the rest of my soul."

"Just admit you are going to be like you were back there in Ishbal and put anyone who bothers me into a coma." Alphonse taunted him fearlessly.

Scar only scowled.

And for nearly two more blocks they walked in semi-comfortable silence as they tried to acclimate back to each other's presence, and the fact that they were _in_ each other's presence again, before Alphonse had a sudden epiphany.

One that made him pale considerably. "You're going to kill all the military personnel."

"Not all."


	12. Chapter 12

GreedxEd: Al would like me to inform you that he does _not_ have cow eyes, and now wishes you pain XD.

Sonar: Yes, Scar just can't leave poor Al in peace. Not that Al will eventually mind.

MandaxPanda: Yes, they are happily together again. Poor East Central will be quite fearful of that.

accident prone: No, it's not weird at all! And yeah... Al needed some other sort of career, just to prove that he can do it. I'm all for alchemy, and pet stores, but sometimes Al just needs to do something totally unique for him.

Zemyx: Yay! Killing spree! XD yeah... poor Scar, the mental debate he must have been going through. See Al... kill... see Al... kill... damn, I want to see Al too much!

Sulky Shark: I did! And thank you, I do love making my Al a real _pistol_, and Scar is just perfect as is with his growly attitude. All I can say is that time will definitely see them spending more quality time together in the bar.

GWings: I think Scar might take exception to killing Ed on the grounds it probably wouldn't be a good thing to have against him when trying to win over Al.

elemental heiress: It makes me happy that you read them so often. And the reactions will be ever-changing among Al's staff... Scar's not always in the most solicitous of moods.

Eri: You are welcome, this is one of my favorite pairings too. I agree though that it is so hard to find anything of them. Which is a real shame, but I'm doing my best to try and fill the void. And don't worry, Scar definitely has his moments of fierce possessiveness in the future about _his_ Al.

Insanity Breaking Point: You'll soon see.

* * *

Some of you had questions about those last few lines in the previous chapter. Some of you seemed to catch on. All I can say is that it will be explained further here... even though I am definitely not ruling out letting Scar kill a few people... but we'll see.

And as a general note that I'm making everywhere, I've finally gotten my FF Master List updated (sans Oblivious). I couldn't believe how behind I was.

I hope you all enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Twelve

Alphonse was understandably nervous as he led Scar around to the front of the bar, climbing up the short flight of steps that were surrounded on either side by tiered gardens and fed by miniature ponds connected to each other by a system of tiny rivers and waterfalls that fell over to the next tier. All to be fed back into the pump and cycled through again.

These Scar took pause with halfway up the stairs as he took in the gardens all in their neat little pine boxes. "Pretentious."

Alphonse whipped back around to level an affronted look at him. "I happen to like my gardens. And so do my customers, it makes them feel happy."

Scar directed his gaze back towards Alphonse, "you'd think that the drink they were here for would take care of that."

Alphonse was getting the feeling that today would be one of those long ones, and he took a deep breath to remind himself that Scar was accustomed to outdoor bars surrounded by nothing but sand. "Happiness should come from more than the consumption of alcohol." He stated firmly, and finished mounting the stairs to cross the short pinewood deck fronting the glass windows and doors. "I'm sure you'll find more pretentious things in here."

Scar watched as Alphonse vanished through one of the glass doors, and to his chagrin, realized that some thread of guilt was nudging his stomach. Not that he'd ever retract his words, as he didn't see the practical use at all for the fancy setup, but this _was_ Alphonse's, and somehow that changed things.

But he still wouldn't retract his opinion, and as he made his way up to the doors to go find Alphonse again, he reminded himself that Alphonse had told him it was an upscale bar. Definitely not anything remotely near his zone of familiarity.

"Are my gardens still alive?" Alphonse asked dryly as he heard the door open, his eyes not lifting from the list of his chef's seasonal proposals to the menu. As autumn was just about to breathe down their necks, they were getting ready to usher it in with complementary foods and drinks.

Although their boss's apparent nonchalance about who would be in the bar well before opening time didn't stop the chef, Bren; the head bartender, James; and Abigail, from looking over.

Scar took in the three people gathered in front of Alphonse, returning the curious looks with a hard red-eyed gaze. These must be part of the staff that Alphonse had warned him not to scare away. He couldn't make promises, as being locked in Alphonse's office was hardly much of a threat.

"They must not be." Alphonse lamented in as just a dry a tone. "He'd have made some snide remark if they were." And he looked up from the menu to look at his chef, "Bren," he quickly got the man's attention away from Scar, noting the chef looked slightly unsure. "Fire up the rotisserie and get samples made up. We'll try them for lunch before we open and go from there. But there's nothing on the menu I'm opposed to yet."

"Boss." Bren inclined his head as he took back the menu proposal that was offered back to him. And he cast one last uncertain glance at the stranger who looked more suited to one of the more shady bars, before making to go head for the kitchens.

"Wait," Alphonse requested, holding up a hand before waving his other towards Scar. "I'd like you all to meet an old acquaintance of mine, Scar." And he gave Scar a piercing look, before motioning in turn towards the employees presently gathered. "This is Abigail, Bren, and James. The others I've no doubt you'll meet later at one point."

Abigail's "hi!" was by far the cheeriest of the greetings, although not to say that Bren and James's "hey's" were any less congenial.

Scar didn't nod, nor make any move to make his stance a more friendly one as he took them in through somewhat narrowed, calculating eyes. But far be it for anyone to accuse him of not containing any manners. After all, he hadn't always been a man who'd murder in cold blood. "Pleasure."

Alphonse couldn't help but think with the way Scar growled the word, it was anything but. The Ishballan was probably the only person alive who could make introductions sound like a warning. "Right. Well, Bren, the samples. Jason, Abigail, we're opening in three hours. Back to work, as you can see I'm just fine." And as they all hurried off, temporarily forgetting about Scar in pursuit of what they needed to accomplish, Alphonse swept a hand through his bangs. "So… you want that drink now?"

Scar looked over towards him, giving a short nod. "Might as well. I've had a damnable time getting here."

Alphonse chuckled, giving the man a brief, amused smile, before turning to make his way to the gleaming bar counter. "I can imagine. Life becomes a bit harder when you decide not to kill everyone who opposes you."

Scar followed after the young man, coming to lean up against the counter as Alphonse ducked around behind it to begin perusing the lower shelves of the stocked alcohols. "That was never the truth anyway. You're living proof of it."

"Yes." Alphonse agreed as he selected a bottle from the employee stock that was kept separate from those they served the patrons. "But tell me, _truthfully_," he asked as he set the bottle to the counter before fixing Scar with a searching look, "were you aiming to only disable me that day? You didn't know how to kill me, for all you knew, blowing me to hell would have worked."

Scar didn't answer for a time, and nor did Alphonse move from where he stood on the other side of the counter holding fast to the bottle. "I never had any driving need to kill you."

"More a need to protect me." Alphonse muttered as he grabbed a glass.

Scar watched as Alphonse poured what was probably some very expensive brandy into the glass, capping the bottle before pushing the glass across the counter. "Not at first." He ground out, as if merely admitting that he'd at one point somehow turned to trying to protect Alphonse was a painful experience for him.

Alphonse smiled faintly, setting the bottle away before grabbing himself a beer out of one of the frosty coolers. "You do realize that by coming here you've severely limited your options?"

"I had a feeling." Scar tossed back the brandy, before eyeing Alphonse's beer.

"Oh no!" Alphonse caught the look, clutching at his beer with both hands now in dramatic exaggeration of protecting it. "This is mine."

Scar let out a derisive snort of a laugh. "I hope your hospitality is less money-driven at your home."

Alphonse chuckled, silently taking this moment to feel relief in that Scar wasn't going to fight him about the fact that the man would _need_ to come home with him. At least until the military matters were all sorted out. "Help yourself there. But my business is a different story."

Scar finally slid onto one of the impeccably polished and plush-padded bar stools, figuring he'd be here a while yet. "I assume you have some leverage to assure you that the military isn't going to come barging in here? I'm not sure I could promise you I'd not kill them all if they did. They were asking for it enough as it was." And he clenched his right fist hard, the tendons showing clearly through the darkly tanned skin.

Alphonse frowned as he lowered the bottle from his lips.

"If it weren't for – "

"Wait." He cut the man off abruptly, his ire already rising again. "What were they saying to you." It was a demand, not a request.

Scar knew that tone far too well by now, and at the risk of having Alphonse bolt out the door to go physically assault half a regiment, he told him anyway. "Generally, let's just put it that what you heard regarding me and my kind wasn't the worst of it. I murdered a good portion of the military once, and attempted to murder the rest right before I saved your life, and after, as that array did work." He chuckled darkly, almost proudly. "Guess they hold a grudge."

"Oh I'll hold a grudge." Alphonse growled, stalking over to stalk over to the house phone. Whipping the receiver up off the hook, he began dialing the phone call that he knew he'd have been needing to make soon anyway.

Scar eyed the caramel-blond with more amusement than suspicion. Alphonse was increasingly full of surprises, and he had no idea what the youngest Elric was up to now, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of humbled gratitude underneath that amusement. It had been rare… very rare indeed, for anyone to stand up for the Ishballan kind in the past. And a folly of a thought to believe anyone would stand up for _him_ so adamantly.

This was going to take some getting accustomed to. All of it.

Meanwhile, Alphonse was waiting impatiently for his phone call to go through. And when at last the other line picked up, he barreled straight to the point before the individual on the other end even had a chance to prep for a 'hello?'.

"You need to call up General Hastion and inform him that the officers he had detaining Scar are lucky I don't march back there myself and beat them with the bat we use to break up the ice! It's steel reinforced and I may be small, but that only means they'll be losing important bits first!"

Scar's eyes widened only marginally. The brat had more than once stood up against him similarly, spitting and hissing like an enraged kitten that didn't realize its own size. But it was fascinating to see it turned on another party.

Alphonse was twisting the phone cord in agitation around one finger, peering out at Scar through the fringe of his hair every so often. "No. I'm fine, really. But those soldiers may not be if they don't learn to let go of several decades of stupid prejudice. They're idiots if they think _taunting_ a man who used to make it a hobby to reconstruct cranial matter is a smart thing!"

Scar gave a long-suffering sigh, "I did not reconstruct. I destroyed sins against Ishbala."

Alphonse gave him an odd look before turning his attention back to the phone call, listening as the person on the other end spoke. "Of course I'm fine. You said it yourself, remember?" He glanced at Scar again with a small smile, "I'll keep him with me though until you give the word otherwise officially that he's to be left alone, unless he's causing trouble or killing anyone." He said the last part with a stern look to the Ishballan.

Scar leveled a deadpan look back at him.

"Yeah. Tell brother I'm fine, and he doesn't need to panic." Alphonse continued, returning the look with unwavering austerity. "Scar won't hurt me. I trust him enough to know that."

Scar waited until Alphonse had hung the phone back up, and even a moment afterwards, before saying. "You're always so sure of that."

Alphonse managed a smile. "Maybe one day you'll believe it too." He replied as he came back over to the counter to stand there opposite Scar, and he rested an elbow up on the counter to lean his head against an upturned hand as he studied the Ishballan. "Don't you want to believe it?" He asked softly, "sure I once made a mistake with you… but aside from then, once you knew who I was, were there any other times you truly wanted to hurt me?"

Scar didn't edge away from the penetratingly searching amber gaze, "I recall telling you that I _don't want to hurt you_."

"And you won't." Alphonse answered the adamant, fierce whisper of the other man. "So try to believe it."

Whatever response Scar was formulating was interrupted by James and Abigail's return into the main lounge area. Carrying between them shining china dishes, cloth napkin wrapped cutlery, and freshly wiped down drink menus.

Alphonse jerked abruptly back to himself, straightening away from the bar counter and taking his beer with him as he made to move from behind it. He paused at the space between the bar counter and the wall, resting a hand on the smooth surface as he looked back towards Scar. "I'll be in the back. You're welcome to explore so long as you don't leave the bar, and no more alcohol for you. James is quite capable of making first class non-alcoholic drinks."

He made sure to say the latter part loud enough for James to hear, and got a quick turn of a head and a nod in his direction. Once he had that confirmation, he gave Scar a last parting look before quickly escaping back to the chilled cellar.

Scar lowered his head after Alphonse had gone, beginning to turn the empty scotch glass in his hands as he frowned down at the gleaming bar counter that showed his reflection perfectly aside from where the grain of the wood disrupted the image. He knew that realistically he couldn't have expected Alphonse to just drop everything for him, not with the feisty brat running his own business. Especially one like this. But it didn't stop him from wondering when Alphonse planned to call it a night and go home.

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

Scar wouldn't have realized that it was _he_ who was being addressed so politely if not for the fact he'd heard and seen the man approach from his side. But he didn't look up, only continued to spin the glass slowly between his hands. "Do you even know who I am?" He asked instead in a growl of a voice.

James did not hesitate, but he did study the tensed figure a moment. The physique of a man who had his guard up. It had not slipped his notice that when he and Abigail had first come in, this man had seemed far more relaxed in just Alphonse's presence. "You are the boss's friend, sir." He replied prudently.

"I'm not." Scar finally looked up, fixing him with a hard, red-eyed stare. "He is not any such thing to me. Nor will he ever be."

James felt his bravado waver faintly under that look, and those final words said in a cutting tone. But he stood his ground as he tried again. "Am I to take this to mean you do not want any food or drink?"

Scar was about to tell the prying bartender several choice words that would have assured him peace and quiet for the entire rest of the day and probably a good portion of the coming night, when his stomach chose that moment to contract painfully – reminding him that he hadn't eaten since he'd chosen to be run out of town back in Ishbal. Which made what he was about to say feel as if he were running a cheese grater over his tongue. "Sandwiches… and water."

James actually recoiled somewhat, looking offended. "Sandwiches and water? You're not imprisoned!"

"Well you go nurse your wounded pretentious pride and get me whatever you won't mind me not paying for!" Scar snapped, thinking it better he do this, than knock him 'round the head. As Alphonse had noted, when he hit someone, it was usually a long-lasting coma. He doubted Alphonse would be pleased if he christened his first day in East Central by assaulting the bartender.

Perhaps he'd be pardoned if he did it the second day?

There was no answer from James. He'd fairly fled for the kitchen in as well-controlled a hasty movement as possible.

Abigail had shortly thereafter ended back up in the chilled cellar, leaving Scar alone up in the main room. She wasn't too concerned about that, clearly Alphonse trusted him, but she still ended up in the chilled cellar where said boss was finishing up inventory.

"Are you here to question my sanity? I assure you that my brother has already done something similar regarding Scar." Alphonse asked, not turning from where he was checking bottles, but knowing all the same that she was there.

"There's only one person named Scar that I've heard of." Abigail answered slowly, a bit unsure if she was overstepping something that shouldn't even be stepped _near_. "He was an Ishballan too."

"If you're wondering if he's the same one," Alphonse said, turning now to look at her, "the answer is yes."

Abigail didn't look away from the amber eyes that she knew were judging her every reaction, but those eyes didn't stop her from quickly becoming confused, angry, and something in between. "Sir, he's a murderer!"

Alphonse didn't attempt to deny it. "Yes. And he has nearly killed me before, came quite close to it. So I'd thank you to trust me that I know what I'm doing. If his being here makes you uncomfortable, you may leave and I'll have your final paycheck mailed."

Abigail's eyes widened, before splutteringly she hurried to dissolve any notions that she wanted to leave. "Sir, I, that's not what I meant!" And then she paused before asking hesitantly, "so the stories are right, he has attacked you?"

"On more than one occasion." Alphonse thought wryly back to the bruises that had been on his neck. "You're safe enough, Abigail. He's still dangerous, but try to believe me when I say that he's trying to turn over a new leaf."

She nodded slowly, a bit uncertainly, but if Alphonse trusted him... "I'll just be careful." She declared with a wavering, but strengthening smile. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have doubted you, not considering how closely tied you are to the State."

Alphonse snorted before turning around abruptly to go back to looking over his stock of liquor. "It's okay, I understand your concerns. Many people will share them, believe me, I know." And he directed an almost sad smile to his clipboard.

"He's said that he's not your friend. Why would he say that when you're clearly helping him?" Abigail asked then, after a moment of wondering if this really was too far to try pushing that line.

And for Alphonse, it was. "That's something personal between he and I." Yet he knew it hadn't stopped him from speaking to Holly about it. But then, Holly was a friend. "You have work to do, Abigail."

That was all it took, and once again Alphonse was left alone in the chilled cellar with nothing but his stock of alcohols. And as he finished his inventory, finding everything was as it should be, he took a seat on one of the empty crates that had yet to be cleared away and took a long breath in.

And for a time he just sat there, losing himself to the solitude before he finally drug himself to go back upstairs and check on things.

He found that the lounge area of the bar was looking just as it should, and that it appeared James and Abigail had done their jobs well. Not that he'd had any doubt of it. The only thing out of the normalcy of his establishment was the looming individual seated at the bar counter.

And he couldn't help but smile as he watched Scar eat on sandwiches and drink down iced tea as if he'd been starved for days. Then, Alphonse realized, the man probably had. He doubted Scar had taken provisions with him, he hadn't even seen a suitcase. Knowing how much time had passed between the getting of the tattoo, and the Ishballan's arrival here in East Central, he doubted Scar had taken time for anything other than sleep and caring for the tattoo.

It was that that made him start forward, and as he climbed up onto the stool at Scar's right side, he folded his hands over the countertop. "You can have something more substantial you know. Bren can make a very nice chowder. It's just the alcohol I'm limiting you on."

Scar shook his head, picking up another triangular ham and cheese sandwich. "This is fine." And a bit hesitantly he added, "I haven't had cheese like this ever."

Alphonse tilted his head in confusion. "On a sandwich?"

Scar shot the caramel-blond a withering look. "With holes in it, you idiot. Of course I've had cheese on a sandwich before."

Alphonse shot him a look right back, and promptly swatted him ineffectually, but it made him feel better. "I didn't know what kind of sandwich it was! And that is _swiss_ cheese. Nice and holey, Ishbala should be happy with your eating habits."

Scar gave the brat at his side a brief smirk, before turning back to investigate his sandwich on its journey up to his mouth. "Ishbala doesn't care so much what I eat, as much as what I do. And I have been far from that grace since before we met."

"I thought Armstrong said that one day that you were saved by some sort of loophole." Alphonse recalled with a slight frown.

"I'd disagree, on the grounds that I am an Ishballan, and your State Alchemist friend is not." And Scar bit into his next sandwich with contentment at the simple act of being able to eat again.

For several more sandwiches, they sat there together in silence. Scar eating and drinking from his glass of iced tea, and Alphonse just watching. It was familiar to them, if not still a bit irritating to Scar. But he'd rather the brat be sitting here at his side out of the way, than hovering around him on foot.

Eventually they were joined by the others, and this time Alphonse did not beat some sort of retreat elsewhere. He kept his seat beside Scar, and it didn't escape his notice that his employees went on his other side on pretense of avoiding the Ishballan. Even if they were trying not to be obvious about it. It was a bit frustrating, but Alphonse knew he had to pick his battles here.

At least they hadn't all bolted for the door yet.

Right now, though, it was time to test the samples for the new menu that Bren had spent the last few hours on. Alphonse pointedly made sure that Scar was served first as their guest, even though the man had already downed countless sandwiches and iced tea.

It didn't seem to matter, for as Alphonse and the others heartily began to taste-test, so did Scar. And Alphonse was raptly watching the Ishballan's every expression, finding himself inexplicably happier every time Scar gave a clear indication of enjoyment.

Which to anyone else was invisible, but Alphonse had seen Scar eat often enough to know that the man was eating each bite slower than normal.

"You stare at me through the dessert as well, brat, and I'll clobber you over the head with your own dinnerware." Scar finally growled at him.

Alphonse only shot him a grin, laughing softly before turning away with a shrug. "I can't help it that I like seeing people enjoy themselves here. Even you. Have you had enough to eat yet?"

"Ask me when you've fed me dinner." Scar informed him, and was pleased that the answer pacified his personal tormentor.

Eventually the dishes from the enjoyed samples were all cleared away, with critique from Alphonse to a closely-listening Bren. And not too long later, the other staff began to arrive through the door in preparation for the opening. All of them taking a quick liberty to stare at Scar before they were sent scuttling off by a red-eyed glare.

Alphonse merely rolled his eyes at the antics and made his way over to the man. "I only stay until after six o'clock, every night aside from Friday, or unless I know it will be busy. That's only about three hours. Are you good still being out here until then? You're welcome to go wander wherever you like, and you haven't budged from this stool."

"I've spent longer on a bar stool than this." Scar reminded him, sure that Alphonse had gotten that impression long ago between the visions and the caramel-blond's visit.

"Drinking alcohol." Alphonse pointed out, but left it at that. "My office is down that hallway," he motioned with one hand, "last door on the right. If you decide you need a change of scenery."

Scar didn't budge, and Alphonse hadn't really expected him to, and shortly thereafter the bar was being opened for business. The influx of patrons was nearly immediate, and soon the tables and their plush chairs, and the bar stools were beginning to fill up.

James was hard at work behind the bar, laughing and putting orders together as he charmed the guests into buying more. The waiters and waitresses were bustling about bringing wine, scotch, beer, and every other sort of high-end alcohol kept by the establishment to the customers who were also enjoying the fruits of Bren's labor in the kitchen.

Alphonse was milling around speaking to just about everyone, as was the maître d'.

But Scar's attention was more for watching Alphonse wander about the lounge, greeting everyone so genuinely with laughter and familiarity. And he continued to take sips of something non-alcoholic that James had thrust in front of him while dubbing it a 'mojito'.

Scar dubbed it a 'too much damn mint', and continued to sip on it nevertheless as he continued to watch Alphonse from what he told himself was a sheer excess of boredom.

It was around the time of one of the lulls of fresh customers that Alphonse finished speaking with the very animated maître d', that the amber-eyed Elric then made his way back to Scar's side. "You ready to go?" He asked cheerfully. "I'm starving for some dinner."

Scar didn't waste any time abandoning the half-emptied mojito glass, and got off the stool for something other than finding the restroom again. Without wasting any time he might as well have dragged Alphonse out of the bar, much to Alphonse's amusement. Yet as they finally turned down the sidewalk to make their way to Alphonse's home, the mood changed significantly from somewhat hurried to something more relaxed.

Alphonse shoved his hands in the pockets of his fancy suit jacket as he tilted his head up to look at the coloring evening sky. "I can't believe I was so busy I didn't even realize you were coming. If I'd been paying attention I'd have been the one to meet you at the train station, not a bunch of militia." He lamented through a deep exhale.

"Do you mean that pull you mentioned is back, or," Scar's brow furrowed as he drudged up and dusted off the things Alphonse had told him he'd once hoped he'd be able to forget, "is still active? I've been taking proper care of my arm."

"I know that." Alphonse replied, and not casually. "I've seen it a few times, that you have. But yes, I can feel that pull again when you're far enough away from me."

Scar watched Alphonse for several more steps as they walked along together, his face betraying none of his thoughts before he at last faced forward. "I'll find my own way in this city soon enough. I hope it goes away before then."

"Just no pimping or killing." Alphonse implored with a slight groan.

"I thought you realized I was here to kill most of the military personnel?" Scar shot back with a growing smirk.

Alphonse looked over at him with an uncertain frown. "That doesn't mean you should pimp out the rest. And we both know I wasn't being serious."

Scar snorted, "so _I_ can't be?"

"Serious? No." Alphonse affirmed quite promptly.

Scar's low rumble of brief laughter sufficed as enough of an answer, and they fell into an easy silence as Alphonse led the rest of the way to his home. And once they neared his fenced-off lawn, he nodded towards the quaint two-story structure that had more lawn than home. But it was how he liked it. It wasn't as if he'd ever needed much in the way of a dwelling.

It was sometime after Alphonse had finished setting the dinner plates out onto the table, and was sitting down to join Scar, that he finally broached one of the things that had been on his mind.

"Did you manage to bring anything at all with you before you left?" Before adding quickly, "not that I won't give you some money to go get some things while you're figuring out what you're going to do."

In answer, Scar reached inside his worn jacket, pulling out a very worn looking folded bunch of papers. "Didn't think anyone else should be snooping through this, realize just how badly injured I was."

Alphonse only had to take a second look to realize what the papers must be, and he nodded. "Probably a good idea. Especially if anyone were to have put it together that you only got better after I showed up, and far too quickly to seem normal."

"You'd have been in even more demand as a prostitute." Scar smirked over his mashed potatoes.

Alphonse scowled at the reminder, which kept him from blushing at the connotation Scar's words held. "Was that poor man still in a coma by the time you left that seedy little village you hunkered down in?"

Scar shrugged uncaringly, "last I heard. I didn't care too much about it, considering I got my desired result of him leaving you alone."

"My hero." Alphonse rolled his eyes, ignoring the dark look Scar sent his way with a small, amused smile.

For the remainder of dinner, they spoke mainly of Scar's impressions about Alphonse's employees. Something Alphonse took more interest than amusement in, for tease as he might about Scar not scaring them off, he found he trusted the man's opinions of people. As such, he decided that James seemed to have the most bravery, for despite his apparent scurrying away in fear after being snapped at, the bartender _had_ come back later that night and served Scar different drinks.

It wasn't until Alphonse had cleared away the dishes from dinner and had finished fixing up the guest bedroom for Scar that he turned to the man, holding out his hands expectantly.

Scar lifted an eyebrow at the action, and about to ask what Alphonse wanted, when the familiarity of the action registered in his mind. "Save your life once and you become an overbearing nurse." He said, shucking out of his thin coat anyway.

Alphonse gave him a reproachful look, "save my life once and you become part of me." He quipped back as he watched Scar begin to unroll the bandage. "I'd say that grants me overbearing nurse qualifications."

The bandages fell away at last, exposing the healing skin around an all too familiar tattoo that wrapped around most of Scar's right arm.

And Scar stood still as Alphonse hesitated once at first, before reaching out to take that arm in his hands. It was difficult to forget what Scar could do with that arm, yet Alphonse tried to ignore the memories attached to that tattoo, and how Scar had blown him to pieces with it at one point, as he ran a hand over it to check for abnormal heat that would point to infection.

Scar watched Alphonse closely, not blind to the fact that Alphonse's hand against his arm was not so steady as it had been back in Ishbal. And as Alphonse finally seemed to become satisfied that there wasn't any infection going on, he caught the unsteady hand in his left, meeting the somewhat startled gaze that was darted up to him. "What happened to your confidence that I'd not hurt you?"

Whatever Alphonse had been expecting, it wasn't that, and he wrenched his hand away with increasingly angry eyes. "Some things take time to get accustomed to again, forgive me if I don't hug your arm with joy. I'm sure I'll get around to it when I can finally trust you to touch my head again." He snapped, and stalked around Scar to leave, calling back a terse "goodnight" before he nearly slammed the door shut behind him.

Alphonse let out a staggering sigh as he made his way back down the stairs and into his living room. He had an older brother to pacify, as he knew that even Roy wouldn't have been entirely successful at it. His only hope was, as he sat down and picked up the phone to begin dialing, was that his irritation wouldn't carry over in his voice and make his brother rush to East Central anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

Cheru-chan: Forget to review this one, and I shall let you join the sheep's head in the pot... XP And I'm glad I'm not the only one who thought that about mojitos the first time I tried one! I was expecting something a bit less like I just stuffed an entire pack of gum into my mouth.

accident prone: Someone didn't log in, naughty, naughty. And Al owning a somewhat fancy place is just too much fun to pass up, I know I'd gladly be his customer.

Zemyx: Yeah, Roy is in for a headache trying to keep Ed calm, but fortunately he's the man for the job. And Hetalia, huh? I dunno... I keep wavering on that one.

GWings: I wouldn't blame Ed for holding a bit of a suspicious grudge. There's only so many times someone can try to kill you before it's hard to forgive and forget easily.

GreedxEd: Hey, holy cheese is delicious! XD

PurpleDragoness: Thank you!f

elemental heiress: I think you could easily put everyone but Holly on that list of persons who think Al's insane.

PALC: Fruit? Yeah, eventually when the time is right with them, it shall bear fruit of pomegranate proportions.

Jayson Hataka: I'm glad!

ChemistofA: Unfortunately it's not as well loved a pairing as anything to do with Ed or Roy, by themselves or together. But I shall love it despite that! XD You must as well! No, I leave you no choice.

* * *

I finally got the rest of the way through this thing. It was an adventure, between Word and myself having an argument, Scar deciding he wanted to sulk with my Greed muse, and a few other things. But hey! I did it. And now I'm all set up to let the fun and games begin. A few of you have been mentioning Ed showing up... which section do you think he'd most enthusiastically participate in: the fun, or the games? Yeah, wrap your minds around what I might possibly mean by that useless inquiry.

And yes, in case anyone ends up wondering, I _do_ eat all those toppings on my pancakes. And waffles. Though perhaps not always at once. Ice cream is delicious too as a topping.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ...with ice cream on your choice of either Al or Scar.

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

Alphonse had woken early as usual the next morning, but he knew that today would be anything _but_ the usual. A lot like how much of yesterday had gone.

"I wonder if anyone will be quitting today." He wondered wryly as he flipped the pancake currently in the skillet. Looking out the window that was positioned across from the kitchen sink, he knew he'd soon need to take some time off of work. At least until Scar was settled in and doing something. He knew that the Ishballan wouldn't be one to waste his time, but then again, Scar probably wouldn't take kindly to his shadowing.

There was no way to help it though. He couldn't let Scar wander around just yet. The Military may have been more or less dealt with, but the general public? He knew better than to happily believe that no one in East Central might recognize Scar from the old wanted posters and cause a panic. He knew better than to happily believe that it would be a quick process to instate Scar as a trusted member of society. So for everyone's sake, Alphonse knew he'd have to tag along with Scar until the man found some useful employment.

"I'll have to talk to Shaun about coming in earlier for a few days." Alphonse lips twitched faintly in a smirk, amused with the image that came to him when he thought about his maître d' being unleashed a few hours earlier onto the staff. Especially after the man had been covering for him all the time he'd been gone to Ishbal.

He just might have to give nice compensatory bonuses to the other staff on their birthdays.

Around the time he'd finished cooking all the pancakes and gotten a plate of them together for himself, he heard the phone ring. "That'll be one of them calling out _sick_." Alphonse couldn't help but laugh dryly as he grabbed a fork and made his way to the living room with his breakfast.

Sitting himself down comfortably, Alphonse carefully balanced his teetering stack of plated pancakes on the arm of his squashy sofa before he reached out to pick up the still-ringing phone off of its hook and bring it to his ear. "Prison Block A." He answered cheerfully. "How would you like to be tortured today?"

"_By visiting your bar tonight._" Replied a familiar, humored female voice over the other end of the line.

Alphonse grinned, smearing whipped cream over his pancakes liberally with his fork. "Oh I'm sorry, that method seems to be gaining popularity. You'll have to wait for a cancellation through death, unless you'd like to reschedule for next week? I have some hangings on Friday."

"_Shaun?_"

Alphonse burst out laughing, "oh come on, he's funny. If anything, the others will be trying to string _themselves_ up when I tell them I'll be taking some time off soon during the day."

"_Scar?_"

Alphonse actually froze, his fork halfway through cutting himself a section of whipped cream covered pancake. "Who told you, Holly?" He finally managed to get out after his moment of stunned speechlessness.

"_You should read the morning paper. It's fascinating what you can find sometimes… like say, two halves of a whole in a fairly decent close-up._"

The fork clattered to the plate as Alphonse slapped that hand over his eyes with a heartfelt groan. "Someone had a _camera_?"

"_Someone was, or knew a reporter. By the way, you didn't really clock one of the military officers, did you?_"

"Of course I did!" Alphonse exclaimed, hand flying from off his eyes, only to grab his fork back up and roughly stab himself some pancake. "Better me than Scar, he wouldn't be waking up in his own bed, much less at _all_ this morning if Scar had struck him." And he stuffed pancake into his mouth to chew it determinedly as he listened to Holly as she began speaking again sounding far too amused at something.

"_I'm assuming he's with you?_"

Alphonse nodded vaguely, despite the fact she couldn't see him, his fork dipping down to wrestle with his breakfast again. "It's best that way for now, and he agrees… though perhaps in not as many words."

"_So when can I meet him?_"

Alphonse prodded with a bit of pancake at the drips of whipped cream around the sides of his plate. "Give me some time with him," he concluded at last after taking a moment to think it over. "He knows about you a bit, but I'd want him to agree to meet you, instead of just tossing him in with you. It's not the safest way to go about gaining his acquaintance, especially not for you."

"_Just _what_ are you implying, Alphonse Elric?_"

Alphonse smirked into the receiver as he lazily lifted more pancake towards his mouth. "You know exactly what I'm implying. Don't you deny it either."

There was a sigh, and then a "_perhaps you're right._" That was soon followed by, "_I've gotta get to the school now. Make sure you read that newspaper. The picture at the very least might be worth keeping to you._"

Alphonse frowned, thinking that it would be more likely that Scar would go destroy the printing press and all copies of the newspaper. But nevertheless replied cheerfully with, "well thank you for your interests in the torture Prison Block A provides, I wish you a painful experience with the students."

"_You're a jerk._" Holly laughed, and the line went dead.

Alphonse grinned, chuckling to himself as he stretched over to put his own phone back on the hook with a bit of a groan of effort. "Good thing I already called brother… although I hope it doesn't make the papers back in Central."

He had gotten through three-quarters of his stack of whipped cream covered pancakes when he heard a door upstairs open and shut. Honestly he was surprised that Scar had slept as long as he did, not that he'd personally minded being able to get a nights rest himself. So when the Ishballan came into view, he gave him a small smile.

"Feeling better?"

Scar looked over in the direction of the quiet question, eyes easily landing on Alphonse, despite how dwarfed the other appeared, sitting all curled in on himself on a decently sized sofa. "Depends… can you still sense me?"

Alphonse tilted his head, his small smile not vanishing yet. "You can't answer a question with another question."

Scar scowled, but when Alphonse merely kept smiling at him, he grunted. "I haven't slept that well in a long time."

Alphonse's smile flashed wider, and he began pushing another piece of pancake around his plate to gather up bits of more whipped cream. "Which I am exceedingly grateful for. So in answer to your question, yes I can." And he popped the bit of pancake into his mouth.

Scar found himself distracted from the smug reply by the remembrance of what had awoken him in the first place. "I heard you talking down here."

Alphonse gave an absent nod, gathering himself another bit of pancake. "Friend called to check in on me."

"Not your overprotective meddling older brother? I'm surprised." Scar drawled with more than a hint of sarcasm coloring his voice.

"I spoke with him last night." Alphonse offered in disinterested explanation as he got up from the sofa while still forking himself another bit of pancake. And brushing past Scar he entered the kitchen to set his now empty plate into the sink. "Pancakes for breakfast, if you're hungry. Syrup is on the top of the refrigerator, jam and whipped cream inside, honey in the cabinet over there." He pointed vaguely before turning around, intending to leave just as Scar wandered in after him. "Plates and forks are on the drying rack."

Scar could only turn and watch as Alphonse brushed past him again, wondering just why someone would put anything but syrup on pancakes before shrugging it off as an Amestrian thing and applying himself to the task of breakfast.

Meanwhile, Alphonse shut and locked his front door again after having grabbed his copy of the morning newspaper from his stoop. Crossing over to the sofa once more he flopped upon it and unfolded it to the front page intending to check for clues on which page the story regarding Scar might be on. A quick scan at the header was all it took to pull his mouth into a faint quirk.

"Page three? Miserable rag, back when Scar was reconstructing cranial matter he made the front page no matter how much there was to the story." Alphonse muttered in dry amusement as he flipped to the correct page.

And immediately erupted into groaning laughter.

"I am so framing this!" He crowed as loudly as he dared, tears of mirth gathering in the corners of his eyes as he stared down at the black and white photograph depicting the very moment Scar had grabbed and hauled him back away from the military officer he'd assaulted.

Scar was looking every bit the picture of murderous and devil-may-care, his arm firmly around the picture of himself, arms akimbo in a flail and mouth opened unattractively wide in the shriek of surprise he'd let out at that moment.

Laughter wracking him, Alphonse wiped helplessly at his eyes. He could only hope that his brother wouldn't see this, or if Edward did, that his reassurances the night before would be sufficient. And with his laughter still shaking him, he began to read the article.

He was almost done, and torn between humor and exasperation, when Scar made his reappearance.

Scar could only frown in the wary way of a man who wasn't sure if a disease was infectious, and the sight of Alphonse in such a state was definite cause for hesitation. Crossing over to sit with uncertain speed into an armchair, Scar kept a cautious gaze on the caramel-blond even as he began to cut himself a bite of pancake.

Ishballa help him, he was still trying to discern why Alphonse would be angry with him! And now here the terror was, laughing and rolling his eyes in turn, sometimes in unison.

Scar nearly poked himself in the eye with a forkful of pancake when out of nowhere, Alphonse let out a sudden shriek of laughter accompanied by several honking snorts that sounded more reminiscent of a pig, which only made Alphonse's laughter escalate into rapid fire foot-stomping glee.

The newspaper was nearly strangled in the process, but neither human heard its crackles of protest.

"What ever happened to reliable reporting I will _never_ know," Alphonse crowed in a moment of coherency that was nearly as alarming to Scar, "but for once I don't mind!"

Scar was feeling frayed by the confusion Alphonse was bringing him, and did the only thing he knew to try and recover himself. "_What_ in Ishballa's name is wrong with you?" He demanded growlingly over his stack of pancakes.

Alphonse looked sharply over his newspaper to pin Scar with an almost smug look, pleased that he'd found a nerve. "Apparently I'm being extorted by you." He said simply as he began flipping the pages of the newspaper to the crossword section. "Why is it that no matter where I go, people assume you're using me for unsavory reasons?"

"You look easy to take advantage of." Scar answered, hint of a growl still lingering on. "I'm in the newspaper?"

Alphonse abandoned puzzling over the hint for sixteen across to glare at the Ishballan. "Yes."

Scar returned the glare as best he could with a mouth full of pancake, and when he managed to swallow, answered the unspoken words. "I only said you _look_ easy to take advantage of. I didn't say you _were_ easy. People who don't know you would take one look at you and agree with an article that hinted you were being taken advantage of by me."

"Extorted." Alphonse corrected, and then tilted his head with a pausing hum. "Although in Ishbal it probably hinted more towards the prostitution angle."

"And what am I extorting you for?"

"A very complex scheme involving kidnapping me to keep my brother from trying to kill you, the sanctity of this country, and something that completely redefines how I interpret necrophilia." Alphonse revealed with a certain nonchalance that in his mind perfectly coupled with the choking cough that Scar suddenly produced. "See what I mean? Pathetic reporting."

Scar somehow managed not to choke to death, as it seemed Alphonse wasn't about to jump and assist him with the blockage, and when his life was more certain to go on, sent a look of outrage to the other. "I can see where they'd come up with the others, but necrophilia!"

Alphonse looked up, a slight frown marring his brow. "But I thought with Lust… I mean, you two had a certain connection… that maybe – "

"I never touched her." Scar hissed. "Don't get such stupid ideas. And since when do you claim that homunculi are not among the living?"

Alphonse returned his attention to his newspaper. "Again, interpretations. And I was trying to look at it from your point of view. Apparently I missed the mark."

"You mean my religion." Scar deadpanned, but did not stop there. "You'd be correct… but since when have I been truly devout?"

Alphonse tilted his head as he considered the next crossword hint as well as Scar's question. It sounded more rhetorical than anything, yet that didn't stop him from considering it as diligently as he considered the crossword hint. "I'm guessing sometime before your brother took up alchemy."

"Try the very moment before I realized my brother had attached his arm to me after Kimblee had removed my own." Scar muttered darkly.

Alphonse did not answer right away, merely watched the man turn back to his pancakes. And eventually, decided not to answer at all, instead turning back to his crossword puzzle. No more was said between them as Scar polished off a second helping of pancakes and Alphonse worked on completing the crossword puzzle.

Normally he wasn't one for the things, but right now it was helping keep Scar's hands off of the newspaper. He had noticed that it published full names of whoever had written what article, and he knew better than to think that Scar was incapable of a bit of phonebook research. He'd clip the picture and dispose of the rest of the newspaper.

Preferably in a way creating much fire and smoke.

It wasn't until Scar had returned from the kitchen a last time that he broke the silence that had overtaken them.

"When is it that you'll be leaving for your work?"

Alphonse indulged in a brief glance towards the clock. "In about two hours. Today is laundry day, so I'll be officially exhausted when we get home tonight."

Scar only grunted in response and found himself left to his own devices as Alphonse busied himself with the newspaper. Eventually the caramel-blond did get up from the sofa, the newspaper going with him. Which left Scar rethinking his plans on what he was supposed to do until they left. He had no illusions about the fact that Alphonse would drag him along.

After a while Alphonse came back down, his sweatpants and oversized t-shirt exchanged for a grey suit vest, and even if the dress shirt underneath was unbuttoned one hole too many and looking a bit rumpled, Scar still couldn't quite wrap his head around the imagery.

Alphonse slung his suit jacket over one shoulder and checked that he had his wallet tucked away in matching grey slacks before looking over at Scar with an expectant smile. "You ready? And don't worry, you won't be bored today."

Scar wasn't quite sure how to take that, and could only look at a grinning Alphonse and wonder what the hell he had gotten himself into by coming here. He hadn't really had much of a choice… but still. And this wasn't even taking into account that he had the lingering suspicion that Alphonse wasn't exactly pleased with him. "Fuck."

"What was that?" Alphonse asked as he grabbed his house keys from the table in the entryway.

Scar only glowered, deeming not to respond otherwise as he followed after the younger man who merely rolled his eyes. And so still trying to puzzle out just what he might be getting himself into with Alphonse, he followed him back to the bar.

It didn't take them long to reach it, and when Alphonse opened the doors they were greeted by the smells of whatever magic Bren was creating in the kitchen and the whirr of the vacuum cleaner that was being dutifully pushed around by Abigail. Shaun, the maître d', was directing three other employees with ironing boards about, and James was elbow deep in polishing the cutlery.

"I thought you said today was _laundry_ day." Scar looked at all the random hustle in the confusion that only a man who'd never heard of a bar needing to do laundry could muster. He was lucky if the bars he had set foot into hadn't had their floors covered in suspicious liquids.

Alphonse looked around, wondering if he was missing something before looking up at Scar with a gathering frown. "I did. The linens aren't the only things that need a deep cleaning." And turned away to greet Shaun with a smile as the energetic man came up to him.

"Good morning, sir!" Shaun beamed back before looking over at Scar expectantly. "I didn't realize we were in need of a bouncer. Have some customers been causing trouble? Do I need to blacklist someone?"

Alphonse couldn't help but break into laughter, and catching Scar's withering look being directed at Shaun, only laughed harder; through his laughter somehow managing to speak. "No, no. He's just a good friend who's staying with me for a while."

"I did hear that." Shaun admitted with an unfaltering smile in the face of Scar's withering expression. "Scar, right?" He asked the Ishballan, dutifully sticking out a hand. "I'm Shaun."

Scar glanced at the offered hand, looked back up into overly enthusiastic brown eyes, and took it in a not-quite-crushing grip. "Right." He confirmed, looking the smartly-dressed man over. He looked almost like a hamster, with brown eyes that seemed a bit too round and a mop of brown hair.

Alphonse tried to hide a smile as Shaun tried not to flinch, before taking pity on the man and discreetly grinding his heel into Scar's foot. It worked, and Scar quickly stopped crushing his maître d's hand, but he gained a red-eyed glare out of the rescue. "Shaun, I'll be out to help as soon as I check my voicemail. Have Scar here help you out with the heavy lifting."

"Alphonse!" Scar snagged the alchemist by his collar before he could escape; dragging him back as Shaun and several others looked on with widening eyes.

Alphonse stumbled back with a surprised yelp, and as his shoulder connected with a solid frame he tilted his head back with a raised eyebrow. "I told you that you wouldn't be bored. Now unhand me."

Scar ignored that last demand. "What makes you think I'd help them."

"Helping them is helping me." Alphonse pointed out with a weary look, "and seeing as how I'm helping _you_ until the military gets all nicely informed, do you see where I'm going with this?" He asked as a frown crossed his face and his eyes flickered in irritation. "But sure, sit around all day if you want. Now let me go, last time I'm asking nicely."

Scar released him with an abrupt rustle of fabric, and he could only stare after Alphonse with narrowed eyes as the younger man straightened his collar with a few irritated jerks and swept off down one of the hallways with a bristling aura that none of the employees could ignore. If Alphonse hadn't been mad at him before, he was now, and Scar was having a hard time holding onto indignation with Alphonse's words in his head.

And what was more, he found it still mattered to him what the irritating brat thought. "Damn him."

Alphonse, meanwhile, had holed himself up in his office and flopped into his desk chair with a rushing exhale of breath before his head dropped into his hands with a groan. "He _is_ Scar, this is normal for him. Being an ass half the time."

Shaking his head out of his hands he scooted his chair forward and reached for his office phone and grabbing a pen. He had work to do, having a headache about Scar could wait.

After managing to get through all his messages, return calls, make new calls, and deal with clerical matters, he called up to the front to have Shaun come back. He was fairly certain that the man would gladly help him out for another few days considering how well things had run in his absence when he'd run off to Ishbal; which was only another reason to add to the list of reasons he felt considerably lucky having the maître d that he did.

He certainly paid enough to have good staff.

And then Shaun was there, poking his head through the door with a curious look.

"Come in and shut the door." Alphonse waved him in as he continued straightening out the stack of mail he'd be needing to send out.

"You have a strange relationship with that man out there." Shaun remarked after he'd shut the door and taken his customary seat for when they had talks.

Alphonse coughed out a laugh, and rolled his eyes with a small shake of his head before meeting Shaun's eyes with wry humor. "You don't even know the half of it, either. I'm not sure I'd even believe the things I've been through with him if I hadn't been living it."

Shaun smiled, tilting his head indulgently. "He's been rather moody since you came back here. From what I saw yesterday he wasn't as surly."

"If this is your way of telling me that the others have made a run for it, we need to work on your expedient delivery." Alphonse deadpanned.

"No, no." Shaun's head righted with a little shake.

Alphonse flopped backwards against his chair with a small sigh of relief. "Good. Because I would hate to have to start conducting new employee interviews any time soon. Not with my needing to take care of some matters related to Scar. Which is why I needed to speak to you, would you mind coming in two hours early for a while? Just until I can get everything sorted out?"

"Of course." Shaun replied, sounding almost scandalized at the implication that he might not. "You take care of what you need to, sir."

"If it were only that simple and quick." Alphonse muttered before giving Shaun a nod and waving his hand. "I'll be out to help in a few minutes. What is Scar doing?"

Shaun, already risen from his chair, smiled faintly at the inquiry. "I've studied people for years, sir. To judge how drunk they are, to judge their character, to know which customers are fine left on their own and which ones need someone to unload on. That man out there… he's difficult. And I wager only you might know in how many ways. But I think, with you… you claim he's a good man, right?"

Alphonse was puzzling over the man, trying to figure out where he was going with this, but he nodded. "He saved my life, among other things." He answered in a voice heavy with the memories. "But even so… he's one of the best _anyone_ that I know."

Shaun's smile only grew, before it vanished with his nod. "I can at least tell that he knows that. You're a hard person to let down, sir." And saying nothing further on it, he excused himself out of the office, leaving Alphonse to sit and contemplate that.

Finally curiosity drove Alphonse from his office – although the fact that he did need to help get all the linens steamed and pressed was incentive enough – and he made his way to the front to check on the activities.

The steam cleaning and ironing was in full swing by now, the tables having been polished to within an inch of their grains. Yet Scar, or Shaun, for that matter were anywhere in sight. With a frown, Alphonse headed into the kitchen where he was assaulted full force by the smells of Bren cooking up sauces and baking up fresh desserts for the night.

"Have you seen Scar?" Alphonse asked as he came over to swipe a chocolate chip from the bin presently sitting open. There were only so many places anyone could hide here, and he knew no one would be down in the cellar.

Bren gave the chocolate sauce he was working with another thorough sweep with his spatula before looking over at his chocolate chip-munching boss. "Out back. What he's doing I couldn't tell you, I'm up to my elbows here in cocoa melto."

Alphonse rolled his eyes, giving him a bracing pat to the shoulder. "Keep up the good work then. If you need help grab James, I think I saw him almost done with the glassware."

Not really expecting much more of a reply than the grunt he got, Alphonse smiled and moved on towards the back door. He knew he was lucky he'd gotten a verbal response at all. Bren while melting chocolate was a Bren short of words and high of concentration.

No one liked the smell of burnt chocolate.

Upon letting himself out the back door where they received shipments, Alphonse's eyes widened. He'd certainly found Scar all right! And Shaun too. The latter of them currently busy pruning the hedges that lined the back porch where the employees took their breaks. As for the former…

Scar was currently breaking up what appeared to be his extra ice shipment. Something he normally needed his steel-reinforced bat to do, because when the ice came, it was in a mostly singular block. Yet Scar, however, was breaking it apart in its bags with his bare hands and a few well aimed punches when required.

Neither of them noticed Alphonse was there until Scar straightened with a newly pummeled bag of ice that Alphonse _knew_ weighed more than he did, and yet Scar lifted it into one arm as if it weighed nothing at all.

For a moment, they only looked at each other. Scar looking oddly uncertain and Alphonse looking on in ill-concealed awe. But then the ice shifted in its bag, causing Scar to break eye contact as he steadied it and brought it over to the lift sitting on the ground that already contained most of a shipment. They were just waiting to be brought up to the roof and poured down the chutes that would supply the kitchen and bar.

Alphonse followed his every movement, the clattering fall of the bag onto the others somehow starting him abruptly into speech. "Thank you." He offered quietly, still mostly in awe of Scar attacking and lifting the ice with such effortless finesse.

Scar met the amber eyes again, finding himself walking over to the alchemist – not that he tried to stop himself. "I was under the impression it's hard work on you. And none of the other men here have strength worth mentioning." He muttered, trying not to sound too much like he ever might suffer anything related to guilt.

Shaun figured it was best to keep pretending he was only pruning the hedges.

Alphonse chanced a smile as he nodded minutely. "I'm not nearly as strong as you. Not anymore."

"You never were before." Scar felt the need to argue, but then he grimaced as he got caught up in those guileless eyes again and the brightening smile. "Fuck, Alphonse, you don't have to make me feel awkward." He muttered under his breath.

Alphonse's smile didn't wane, but he did turn his attention down to Scar's hands, the right of which he reached forward to pick up. Brushing his fingers over where the skin had become red and angry from the treatment against the cold ice, even if it was covered in thick plastic, he looked back up into red eyes that revealed nothing of what Scar was thinking. "I'm just happy." He explained softly, releasing Scar's hand. "I didn't expect you to help at all."

Scar flexed his hand unconsciously as he tried to ignore just how much he preferred this, a happy Alphonse, to the irritated one of before. It didn't help him to know that he always had, really. "Just let me know if there're any other things you have to do that are difficult on you. I'll take care of it for you." He offered, trying not to grumble the words too much.

It had been so long since he'd had the cause or opportunity to have normal interaction, that it was difficult for him to switch over. But he'd keep trying to remember how a bit of normalcy felt. He had to make this work. Not just for himself, but for Alphonse who was the only person he knew would ever really trust him. Even if he didn't understand it.


	14. Chapter 14

Alex: I think the ice just falls apart moments before Scar hits it, in respect for his physical badassery.

Cheru-chan: You know how it is with the big men, they're just big softies inside. I don't know what it is... but that seems to be their thing.

MandaxPanda: They've rather a strange chemistry between them, but it works for whatever reason.

elemental: Oh it was hot, the ice never stood a chance. And what a good way to show off your strength and potential to provide fantastic sex.

ChemistofAmestris: I wish there were more Scar/Al stories too. They're one of my favorites, and I'm kinda kicking myself for only giving in with them now.

Sonar: Oh don't give me ideas like that, I'm not sure Al would survive a prank war with Scar.

: And that's just his _hands_ imagine what he can do with everything else.

Zemyx: Now I can't get that image out of my head, you evil thing. Although he would look quite good as a housewife in a frilly apron.

GreedxEd: Tell your library to suck it.

FablerPhoenix: That's a relief to me, writing Al as being older... I've seen so many and done so many myself where he's just sort of two dimensional, and even in the original series it feels that way to me. So I'm enjoying playing around a bit with him... and Ed will show up eventually, so you'll get to see the dynamics there.

PALC: Alphonse has an innate ability to tame Scar, which is fortunate for everyone. And I'm so glad you like Shaun! I'm enjoying playing with him.

Plimsoul: Yes, join us on the bandwagon of realizing that these two together isn't such a terrible idea XD. And all very good questions and problems, some of which do definitely get addressed in length at points.

secret25: I don't think even Al and Scar would be able to properly or easily describe their relationship if asked. The way they fell into even a tentative friendship in the series wasn't typical at all.

Mononoke: All of which are fine descriptions to hear, and I will!

* * *

For a while there neither Scar nor Al wanted to cooperate. I got cable and so ended up watching Brotherhood as it's in the middle of shows I do want to see... and the first episode I saw had Scar looking about 70 years old. The result was my being horrified, Scar getting surly and trying to comfort Alphonse who was in tears.

I think I got them both past it though. All I have to do is keep pointing out that they've quite a long time until Scar is 70 and Al... what? 50? XD cradlerobber

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter! For Scar is not 70! XD

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Alphonse entered into business hours with a delighted smile that seemed permanent, and was quite infectious on the patrons, as it turned out. The staff, aside from Shaun, didn't know what had come over their normally cheerful boss to make him even happier, but they didn't question it. Shaun, on the other hand, knowing full well what had happened to put Alphonse in such a good mood, spent a majority of his free time smirking amusedly at the Ishballan import.

Said import was currently sitting as far out of the way as one could get, by all appearances reading the wine list, but Shaun could read people better than that. Not even considering the fact that Scar didn't seem the type to drink wine.

"While we have many great wines," Shaun said as he slipped over to the man, "if you want to keep an eye on my boss it'd be easier and more effective for you if you were at the bar tearing up napkins."

Scar set the leather-bound book down, red eyes hard in potential threat as he looked the hamster-like man dead in the eyes. This energetic, friendly to a fault sort of man who was in such high keeping at this bar. The one who he hated to admit had helped him this afternoon. "You should be more afraid of me."

Shaun beamed at the helpful tip, "that's why I have a table between you and me."

Scar couldn't help but think that if Alphonse wouldn't be severely upset with him, he'd strangle this man who he couldn't quite discern whether or not he disliked. "Make it more and stop bothering me."

"My boss won't mind if it's easier for him to talk to you." Shaun told him before making a quick exit.

Scar stared after him, watching the strategic retreat before searching out Alphonse with his eyes. It didn't take him long to spot the head of long caramel-colored hair, he'd never truly lost track of it in the first place. And the wine list subconsciously lowered as he watched with a frown as Alphonse continued to chat amicably to three ladies seated at a table, all beaming smiles and one damnable hip leaning against the table edge.

He barely registered getting up, much less the crumpled wine list he left behind.

All he knew was that suddenly he was sitting very prominently at the bar counter and staring hard at Alphonse's turned back.

Alphonse, for his part, finished greeting the ladies who were often regulars and promised to get out of the way so they could actually get their drink orders taken, and waved himself off to their cheerful grins. Yet the moment he had fully turned, he stopped just as fast as his eyes caught with Scar's. After a pause he slowly started forward again, stopping only once he reached the man who dwarfed the bar stool he sat on.

Scar waited through the mutual look until Alphonse looked about to say something, before cutting him off. "I was right, I am going to need to keep an eye on you."

Alphonse found his head tilting with a frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Scar growled as he grabbed Alphonse by the arm to yank him up against the counter where there was an empty seat, "I would have expected such open and unbiased flirting from that Mustang character. Not you."

Alphonse didn't try to shake off Scar's hand, knowing it'd be futile anyway, and so settled for frowning at him. "What do you…" and then it dawned on him, his face breaking into a grin as he fought not to laugh. "Scar, it's not always flirting to be nice to people. I'm running a business, which means I'm friendly with my customers. It doesn't mean I want to sleep with everyone who comes into my bar." And then he frowned again. "Not that it's any of your business if I flirt with anyone. I know what you're worried about, but it's ridiculous. For all you know I could have been getting obsessively laid for the past year."

The man occupying the stool on Scar's other side choked into his drink.

Scar abruptly released the blond, "careful, Elric. I'd hate to have to punch one of your _customers_."

Alphonse's expression was full of wry amusement as he shook his head. "As I said before, my hero." And reaching out to clap Scar on the arm, turned to catch James's eye from three seats down. "Best get him his drink now if he wants one, I'm heading home in about an hour."

James gave an answering nod, and flicked a quick gaze to Scar before resuming finishing up the drinks he was currently making.

Scar was left to scowl after Alphonse, only shifting his attention away when James approached. "Whatever you think will irritate him the most."

"Sex on the beach." James remarked idly.

The same man beside Scar nearly inhaled his remaining drink down the wrong way and surfaced spluttering.

Scar found his scowl rather well-served on both individuals, pleased when the unknown man crept carefully away to another bar stool. Although the same couldn't be said for James who seemed to have even more gall behind a bar counter the man presumably thought was an effective safety device. "To _drink_, you hapless moron."

James smirked, self-satisfied that he'd had his bit of fun, but knowing better than to push too far. For as effective a calming device as his boss seemed to be on the snarly Ishballan, said boss was currently not anywhere near close enough to merit being able to save his life if Scar decided to take two seconds out of his evening to snap a neck. "Give me a moment."

Scar could only sit there and seethe with amazed, sarcastic wonderment about whether or not all of Alphonse's employees had taken leave of their senses for the day. And when he was presented with a rather tall, strong drink, he began to gulp it down as if it were merely water while knowing that as soon as he was able, he'd be out of here.

And not just in the sense of 'tonight'.

He had come here to start a new life for himself now that he could, as Alphonse had so ardently pointed out one afternoon. He didn't regret his past actions in this country, but said actions certainly were making it difficult on his ambitions now.

First and foremost being to get free of this damned pretentious bar.

As it was, the hour Alphonse had mentioned could not have passed more slowly, but when it had he lost no time in freeing himself of the place.

"Scar..." Alphonse rolled his eyes and quickly trotted after the quickly striding Ishballan who had gotten a substantial lead on him in the few seconds he'd been distracted by waving goodbye to his employees. "What's wrong now? You're not still mad at me about my apparent flirting, are you?"

"Why, again, must I come with you to that place?" The words barely free of being a growl.

"To keep an eye on me so I don't flirt." Alphonse deadpanned with a frustrated look towards the man, right before he was forcefully shoved into a wall of a closed business causing him to bite down on the pained cry that nearly escaped him when his head knocked hard against the unforgiving surface.

Scar fisted his hand in the collar of Alphonse's suit, his other hand slammed to the wall next to the brat's head. "Over and over again I've told you to stay away from me, that sentiment can extend to your precious employees as –"

"_They've_ got you in a mood?" Alphonse snapped, amber eyes flashing in growing anger. "And may I remind you, you ass, that _you're_ the one who wants to keep an eye on me. Protect your investment, so to speak. So don't you dare try feeding me that line now!"

"I can keep an eye on you from a distance. Tell whatever connections you have at the military to hurry up with their little memo to leave me alone so I can be free of that damn pretentious place!"

"And what exactly do you plan to do with yourself? Have you even thought about it during all those hours you spend brooding with your hackles up in that _damn pretentious place_?" Alphonse countered heatedly, "think what you want about my employees and my business, but don't you dare ever complain to me about this situation again just because you've got some stick up your ass! I'm doing everything I can for you, you ungrateful jerk, and while I'd never expect to be thanked for it, the _least_ you could be is patient!"

Scar was too stunned to resist when Alphonse smacked his hand away to get free. And he didn't follow right away as the caramel-blond slipped past him quickly, only closed his eyes with a muttered curse as his actions caught up with him. He'd barely just gotten Alphonse happy with him again today before he had to go and pull another similar stunt.

He knew he could control his temper better than this! He had to.

Turning, his eyes widened as he saw how far behind he'd been left, and he was forced to jog to catch up to the swift, angry steps of the other. "Alphonse…"

Alphonse shot a glare over his shoulder as Scar reached him again. "_Don't_, just… don't." He bit out and only walked faster, only to stumble into the street a few paces when he'd whirled to avoid the hand reaching for his arm – probably to stop him. "And don't you dare touch me!"

"Alph – "

It was all Scar was able to get out when a brilliant flash of light caused the sidewalk under him to give way like a soupy mess and he was flung back into nearby bushes.

Alphonse was glaring again as he slipped the chalk back into his pocket. "Don't touch me, don't speak to me. If you know what's best for you you'll leave me alone for the rest of the night because I…" he shook his head in an effort to distract the bitter frustration, only succeeding in making his head pound harder where it had gotten knocked against the wall. "I've had enough for today. Why must you be so much more difficult here? You were nicer to me in Ishbal."

Scar believed that even with the demand not to speak to him, he might not have been able to reply anyway… he was trying to figure out the same thing. What was wrong with him? And he could only pick himself up out of the bushes and follow after Alphonse, silently.

It was the least he could do for right now.

Dinner was a silent affair, and Alphonse barely made a comment when he checked the progress of Scar's healing tattoo, and before long he left Scar alone and made his way down to the phone. Carefully he sat down on the couch, trying not to mind his unsteady balance. He'd had knocks to the head before… it just hadn't been anytime recent. That part of his life he'd thought was over.

Picking up the phone he dialed Holly's number, despite the hour of the night.

"_Hello?_" Was the groggy answer.

"Is there any way you can call in a substitute tomorrow?" Alphonse asked quietly.

"_Al? What's going on?_" She sounded a bit more awake now.

"I'm pretty sure I have a concussion, and I need someone to keep me up tonight."

"_What, pray tell, were you doing that you got a concussion?_"

Alphonse sighed, curling in on himself against the cushions. "Scar."

"_Perhaps you should invest in a cushioned headboard?_"

"Holly!" Alphonse gasped, horrified as he realized _just_ how what he'd answered had sounded. "It's not – he can get a bit physical when he's upset over something and I don't believe he realized just how hard he slammed me up against that wall. I couldn't see at all just afterwards, not like he noticed."

"_You do realize that at this hour of the night, and being half asleep, that everything you just said sounds terribly open of you?_"

"Shut up, my head hurts enough as it is without this harassment." Alphonse muttered darkly. "I'm not honestly sure sex is an act that can be survived with that man, but that's beside the point. Can you get someone to cover for you or not?"

"_I'll be over soon, don't fall asleep before I get there._" Holly's voice was amused, and Alphonse could only roll his eyes – before wincing as he discovered it to be a bad idea.

"Thanks, Holly." Alphonse hung up the phone feeling grateful, both for the help he'd need tonight in staying awake long enough, and the fact that right now, he really did need someone to talk to. Today had been… not at all what he'd planned.

True to Holly's words, there was shortly a knock on the door, and Alphonse wobbled his way off of the couch before making his way over to the door while being grateful that he seemed to still have enough control and awareness to walk in a straight line.

"Hey." He smiled in greeting as he opened the door to her amused yet worried face.

Holly shook her head with her own smile and stepped inside to close the door herself. "Al, Al, Al… come on, let's get you sitting back down."

Alphonse didn't put up a fight as she guided him back to the couch, and he settled back wedged in between the armrest and the back. "Nice pajamas, Hol."

Holly glanced down at the camisole and sleep pants checkered with martini glasses before smirking at him. "You would think so." And she kicked off her slippers as she carefully sat sideways down next to him, pulling her legs up under her and resting her near arm over the back of the couch as she took a good look at her friend. "You look… tired."

"Well that's anticlimactic of you." Alphonse teased her.

Holly gave him a thin smile and shook her head. "You didn't even look tired to me all those nights you weren't getting any sleep, even with sleeping pills," and she smirked on principle before sobering, "I hadn't been able to tell you weren't sleeping well. So I guess you show emotional exhaustion better than physical."

"He _is_ emotionally exhausting." Alphonse agreed with a slight groan to his voice, "I know he doesn't like feeling cooped up, especially not now that he has full use of his body back, but I…" he trailed off with a bitterly confused expression, "he was nicer to be around in Ishbal."

Holly's head fell to the side to rest against the back of the couch as she observed her friend. "I think you can imagine why that is… can't you? Would you like feeling cooped up temporarily because of a military you'd once had a murderous vendetta against?"

"I know all of that, believe me, I do." Alphonse murmured softly, somewhat lost in his own thoughts and memories. "It's not about imagining it, not for me… I've seen it, and there was a time where the military wanted brother and I dead as well as Scar. So I know, I really do… but I also know that in his own way he knows this situation is as ideal as it can get right now. I guess I just wish he could control his temper a little better _all_ the time."

Holly smiled consolingly as her friend rubbed wincingly at his head. "I take it he's not smashing you into walls all the time then?"

"He actually treats me gently, for the most part." Alphonse admitted and then shook his head regretfully. "He… I meant to check over his hands when we got home, but I was just so mad at him… I'll have to do it tomorrow."

"What happened to his hands?"

Alphonse smiled a faint, happy smile. "He actually helped me out a bit today at the bar." He told her, before flinching a bit guiltily. "I'd yelled at him after the wall incident happened, rather implied that he did nothing but sit around there and scowl at the world."

Holly laughed softly, able to easily imagine the man doing so. She'd seen enough wanted posters years ago, and then that newspaper photograph. "Al, he slammed you against a wall, I'd say you had license to be a _bit_ enthusiastic with your complaints. You don't complain enough as it is, you're far too nice for your own good."

Alphonse scowled sidelong at her.

"Now you look like Scar." She laughed.

Alphonse groaned and looked away. "Impossible. The man is over twice the size of me. He kept calling me 'kid' for a reason."

"I'll determine that for myself in the morning." Holly told him firmly, and seeing Alphonse about to open his mouth, jumped in before him. "I'm staying over to keep you from becoming a vegetable because you let a very literal tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome slam you into a wall, the least you can do for me in return is let me see him."

Alphonse's expression was an incompatible combination of mortification and amusement. "I do believe you'd best keep that description to yourself and out of his earshot. I'm not sure how he'd take to being called handsome, he's not Roy."

Holly snickered lightly, "I didn't realize you felt that way about your brother's lover."

"Oh, shut up." Alphonse scowled at her playfully. "Scar just…" and he grew more thoughtful, "he doesn't seem like he's ever been exposed to flattery like that."

"Maybe he should be," Holly grinned deviously, "it might make him a bit less violent."

Alphonse groaned and wondered why again he'd called her here… oh, right, he didn't trust anyone else this much. At least, no one that was currently in town, although he suspected had he called his brother that Ed would have raced off in Roy's car and broken every speed record to get to him… and murder Scar, at that. "Why do _you_ have to be my best friend?"

"Keep complaining, Elric." She smirked, not in the least offended. "Can you still sense him at a distance?"

"I can sense him right now, actually." He glanced towards where the stairs lay. "I've been keeping tabs on him since you got here, I'm pretty sure he's asleep."

"How does it feel, exactly? Sensing him?" Holly pressed curiously, having her victim in her clutches with no possibility of escape. "How would you describe it?"

Alphonse paused to feel at the link, startled by his own curiosity about it for all that he'd been feeling it far too much in his opinion. "I suppose… mostly it's this tug in my mind, kind of feels like someone threw a grappling hook into my brain and keeps jiggling the rope to tell me where he is." He mused thoughtfully, his gaze drifting over to her, "_why are you writing that down_?"

Holly eeped and threw her weight back across the couch to roll out of reach as Alphonse made a surprisingly coordinated lunge, and she was laughing as she righted herself on the opposite end, smugly sticking her tongue out at the glowering blond. "You practically told me I could publish findings, how am I supposed to do that without this lovely information?"

"Well make sure you write in that I currently am in no physical condition to be giving an interview and you're trying to extract one anyway." Alphonse retorted through a smile he kept trying to fight down.

"Noted." Holly sagely agreed as she penned that statement down as well before looking up at him. "Let me see… what should come next…"

Alphonse could only groan, having the dreaded suspicion that it was about to be one long night.

As it turned out, it was. But Scar awoke with no knowledge of that, or the fact that anything had occurred last night while he'd been attempting to sleep while plagued with wondering how to go about apologizing.

All he knew was that he was reasonably, understandably left with a blank look when he encountered a strange woman in the kitchen.

"Just in time!" She greeted his presence enthusiastically and with a little bit more than an appraising gleam in her gray eyes, "you can bring that tray there up to Al's room."

Scar found his eyes tracking a bewildered path to the tray that was sitting on a nearby counter. It was set with a glass of orange juice, condensation gathering along the bottom, and had a plate of honey-covered toast sitting next to a lidded plate, hiding the contents. "Who –"

"Later." She cut across him effortlessly, "right now Al is starving and trust me, he needs that orange juice." And when he didn't immediately move, "directions are given with the intention that they'll be followed immediately, Scar."

All Scar knew was that suddenly the tray was being pushed into his hands by this redheaded stranger, and not knowing whether it was her or himself that started him walking, was all the way up the stairs again and feeling all the more confused at what he'd just wandered into. He half wondered if he were still dreaming when he arrived at the door to Al's room… where the guilt suddenly came back full force and he realized that he was most definitely awake.

Letting out a slow breath, he knocked once on the door before letting himself in.

"Scar?"

Alphonse looked as bewildered at his appearance as he'd been at that woman's appearance.

Alphonse felt he might have laughed at how off balanced Scar seemed right now, and the fact that the man was carrying a tray of food for him, had he not been so tired and realized that now he'd have to deal with explaining to the man what had happened and who Holly was.

He had no doubts that Holly had done her best to contribute to that puzzled expression on the normally stoic or scowling Ishballan's face.

"There was this woman… in your kitchen…" Scar said slowly, before abruptly remembering why he was here and casting a frown towards the young man who was nestled against a plethora of white pillows and under a thick and fluffy looking white coverlet. "Why are you still in bed?"

Alphonse let out a slow breath and patted the covers. "I need some food and some of that juice before we go into that."

Scar approached to set the tray down carefully, letting Alphonse guide it to rest. And he took a quick moment to sweep his eyes around the room, so much more vastly decorated than his own. "Who is she?" He asked, continuing to scan his surroundings. "Your girlfriend?"

Alphonse barely kept from snorting the orange juice through his nose, and fought against the urge to cough as he turned wide eyes up on the man. "Gate, no! She's my best friend. I'd sooner sleep with her than with my own brother."

Scar considered him, processing that bit of information as he tried to picture that off balancing woman from downstairs as being best friends with this brat… and then decided it seemed rather suited. "Why is she here?"

Alphonse felt more than his lungs deflate with the silent sigh that he barely dared let escape him. He really had been hoping that Scar would drop the entire matter until he'd finished breakfast. "I called her over last night. She was keeping me awake while I waited out my little concussion."

The silence that descended the bedroom was weighted.

"Concussion?" Scar echoed, red eyes narrowing as he quickly looked Alphonse over, demanding, "how did this happen."

Alphonse didn't look away from the gaze that pinned him to the bed, and while part of him wished not to do this, he knew that Scar would know if he lied. "Last night." His tone subdued, left hand fiddling with his white coverlet.

"Last…" Scar trailed off, a sudden image flashing into his head causing him to clench his hands into fists of frustration. "Damn it, Alphonse! Don't you –"

"If you dare try and feed me that line about not wanting to hurt me, I swear to Ishbala that I will take this fork and drive it into your tongue." Alphonse cut across adamantly, yet without accusation. "I know you're going stir crazy, I know that despite it you still know that I'm doing the best I can here for you, and you and I both know that I am not a fragile piece of glass… even if sometimes I wish you'd treat me more like one."

"I don't want to hurt you." The repeated phrase far more subdued than it had been in Ishbal. "I didn't realize I'd shoved you that hard."

"Come here, Scar. Closer." Alphonse entreated with an entirely normal tone.

Too normal.

Scar rightfully stood his ground, staring at the spitfire of a young man mistrustfully. "Why?"

Rather calmly, Alphonse answered, "because I told you what I'd do if you fed me that line, and now I'd like to drive my fork through your tongue. I did swear on your god after all, I feel it merits being carried out."

Scar scowled, the scowl deepening when Alphonse began to laugh at his expression. But he couldn't find it in himself to become angry, and soon his face softened out. No, it was entirely unfair that he get angry… he'd made a complete bastard out of himself yesterday, he wouldn't make the same mistakes today. Alphonse wanted to be treated like glass? Well, it fit into his desire not to hurt the caramel-blond, and after giving him a concussion even by accident, Alphonse deserved it. "I apologize for hurting you last night, and for being difficult –"

"Being difficult is in your nature." Alphonse inserted with a faint smile.

"– it is not easy for me," he continued with a rebuking look for the interruption, "to be in this country, or to be a free man. But I'll try to be better at it, for you. You're using up a lot of your own time because of me, and it's not fair that I don't try just as hard to make it worth your while."

Alphonse found himself smiling a bit wider as he digested that, "Scar… I do love the way you apologize." And was promptly glared at, something he ignored as he began fiddling with the coverlet again. "I'm sorry too, you know. I shouldn't have accused you of wasting time sulking."

"There is no need for you to apologize to me." Scar muttered, sounding almost embarrassed at the sort of attention Alphonse apologizing to him brought.

"Then the same is true for me." Alphonse told him frankly. "Just make sure that any more future walls and I meet with a bit less force. Now let me see your hands."

Scar blinked, somewhat derailed by the odd request. Yet he stepped up to Alphonse's bed anyway and offered them out where they were taken into comfortingly cool hands. Only upon noticing the area of Alphonse's touches did he remember, "they're okay, little one."

Alphonse tried not to roll his eyes at the name, instead brushing further touches over Scar's weathered and scraped right hand. "Only you would get in a punching fight with a block of ice and then claim to be okay."

"Only you would get a concussion and not tell me about it." Scar retorted dully, and looked at the amber eyes hidden by a caramel-colored fringe as Alphonse continued to inspect his hands. "So who is your friend, exactly?"

Alphonse chuckled in true humor at the question, darting an amused glance up at the man. "You'll soon find out. Just please don't go tossing her into any walls, best friends like her are hard to come by for me."


	15. Chapter 15

elemental: I know that both Alphonse and I would be very happy if Scar kissed everything better. At least, Alphonse will soon realize he'd be very happy.

GWings: That does sound like a movie... the summer's comedy.

secret25: And you know I had fun wording the phone conversation like that. I added at least one little fun thing to this chapter as well.

Sonar: Hey, sometimes trying is everything.

Cheru-chan: She probably figured the same thing when she did that. And it was the best time for her to do it, really. Scar wouldn't have had a chance to get his feet under him yet.

PALC: You are quite welcome as always. Glad to hear my humor has not passed you by.

GreedxEd: You and the damn chickens.

* * *

I have three minutes until I need to leave for work. Holy crap I did it, I was determined to get this up today in my slight break between jobs. Both of which, I have or will be quitting today. I got hired at a bookstore instead, with benefits. So I am quite pleased indeed! Hopefully this should free up some normal writing hours for me.

Anyway, as I am so short on time... uhm lets see... add me on facebook? I still only have twelve friends XD.

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen

Alphonse didn't question it when Scar stayed with him while he was eating. He was quite aware that the man was watching him closely, most likely making sure that there were no lingering effects from the concussion he'd suffered. And honestly, he was a bit glad for the company. Not to say that Holly wouldn't have come up to provide conversation, but after a full nights worth of conversation with her, he found Scar's relative silence, in comparison, a welcome reprieve.

Scar had taken to sitting on Alphonse's bedside when the younger man had complained that it hurt his neck to look up at him, and he frowned as Alphonse continued to ignore the orange juice in favor of the runny eggs he'd smeared all over a pile of hash browns. "Drink your juice."

Alphonse glanced up at him, the fork pausing halfway to his mouth. "Yes, mother?"

"She said you would need it, your friend." Scar scowled at him.

Alphonse cracked a smile at that, "she would." And he lowered his fork, untouched, to pick up the glass of orange juice instead. "But sometimes she forgets who I was, am. I don't exactly need pick-me-ups to get through multiple days without sleep."

Scar didn't speak again until he'd made sure that Alphonse had drunk at least a third of the glass, which the alchemist seemed amused about, but didn't comment. Only once the fork was being picked up again did he speak. "She treats you like a normal person… you need that."

Alphonse gave a muffled laugh, and smiled faintly at his food. "Perhaps."

Scar felt it was a bit more than a 'perhaps', but he didn't say anything. In his mind, he felt Alphonse had been through far more than anyone should ever have had to go through… and in the past he'd done what he could to try and help. Even going so far as to do the thing that had led to this very moment of them being together again.

He wasn't sure what it was about Alphonse… but the brat had been one of the few he'd ever grown to feel more for than simple tolerance.

When Alphonse finished at last with his breakfast, and the juice under Scar's watchful eyes, he barely had time to put his fork down when the man was lifting the tray away and getting off the bed. "I can take care of it, you know."

Scar only grunted as he shifted the tray to one hand, offering down the other to the abed Alphonse. "Take care of yourself."

Alphonse hesitated a moment, looking at the offered hand, before grasping it gently. The man's hand firmed around his and shortly thereafter he'd been effortlessly pulled out of the bed. "I'll be down shortly."

Scar narrowed his eyes, carefully taking in Alphonse's current balance.

"I'm fine now!" Alphonse insisted with hands up. "Really. I've had concussions before, you know."

"Not from me." Scar rumbled, but turned to leave.

"Well, no. But at least you didn't hit me with anything." Alphonse offered brightly in the face of the deadpan, not at all amused look that was shot over Scar's shoulder. "Seriously, I wouldn't have been able to stay conscious."

Scar found himself snorting despite himself, and wrenched the door open. "You would have, with sheer stubbornness."

Alphonse grinned as the door slammed shut, and slowly shook his head. "I am a brave fool to be stubborn around you… but it's worth it."

The Ishballan might not see him as a friend… but that didn't change how he regarded him in kind.

So with a bit of a smile still playing on his face, Alphonse turned to go in search of a hot shower to make himself feel as entirely human as he could get before he readied himself for what he knew would be an exceptionally long day. He'd just gotten accustomed to being able to sleep again at night.

Some time later, freshly showered and dressed, Alphonse began to trot his way down the stairs with interest peaked. He'd left Scar and Holly alone for quite a while now, and was interested to see just how the Ishballan had gotten along with his best friend.

What he found as he rounded the corner into the sitting room, caused him to break out into light laughter.

Scar was sitting rigidly straight in the armchair, giving Holly a patented red-eyed stare that probably had the visual power to keep an entire Military regiment at a nervous bay. Holly, on the other hand, was staring right back at the Ishballan in humored fascination.

It was his laughter that shifted the entire scene.

Now _he_ was the one being looked at in humor, and Scar was giving him a look that suggested the man was suddenly not convinced that all was right in his head after the previous nights knock.

"I'm guessing introductions are still in order." Alphonse smiled in the face of it all as he walked over to be nearer to Scar. "Scar, this is my friend Holly. She's the one I told you about in Ishbal, the one who figured out that I most likely have part of your soul in me."

Scar looked back at Holly with new reservation, his eyes calculating as he took stock of this woman with messy, fiery red hair and large grey eyes. This woman who was now sporting a smile he'd rather not know the meaning of, he decided. But he still had new reservation with this information.

"It really is a pleasure to finally see you in person." Holly offered as she regarded the man, and tried not to show her surprise when Alphonse settled down on the floor next to Scar's legs. She was too busy trying to frantically remember which arm it was that Scar had tattooed, in hopes that it wasn't the side that Alphonse had plopped himself down next to.

Scar too was surprised, but he didn't bother hiding his shock and subsequent uncertainty regarding Alphonse's actions as he reached out to tug on a lock of caramel-colored hair. "You do know you're on the floor, little one?"

Alphonse shrugged, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Tired of sitting on soft stuff. I've been on soft stuff all night."

Holly found herself smiling, even after what had happened, Alphonse really did trust that man. And if she had to make a guess, probably that he felt safe with Scar. "So Scar," she began, dragging the Ishballan's attention away from the alchemist at his feet and back up to her, "I know Alphonse is probably half over there in the hopes of trying to trip you if you decide you might like to kill me –"

Alphonse burst out in a laugh, but didn't deny anything.

"– but I was wondering if you could tell me if you are able to notice on any internal level that part of your soul is missing."

Scar let Alphonse's silky hair slip free of his fingers as he frowned at the woman and her question. She may have been the one to plant the idea in Alphonse's head, and she may have been correct about it, but she wasn't _his_ friend. He knew little to nothing about her, and what she was asking… it was quite personal. "In light of Alphonse having had a long night already because of my actions, I'll give you a warning, ask something like that again and immediately run." He replied in a promising, dark voice.

Alphonse saw Holly's eyes widen at the same time he shivered. "Scar," he placated, turning to look up at the bristling Ishballan with an appeasing gaze. "She doesn't mean any harm, I promise you. And… I'd like to hear the answer too." And when Scar's gaze only hardened at him, added a soft, "please?"

Scar glared, but it was purely reflex. He could already feel that damning, maddening unclenching inside him as those amber eyes looked up at him beguilingly and far too innocently.

"Scar?" Alphonse entreated in quiet hope.

Scar let out a silent, weary sigh as he closed his eyes briefly before finding himself looking back into those _eyes_ Alphonse had. By Ishbala, it was unfair for anyone to have eyes like that. "You and those damn cow eyes."

Normally, Alphonse would have been offended, but instead he smiled brightly, knowing he'd won. "Don't worry Scar, I'll stop her myself if I need to. I've done it quite frequently." And then he whipped around to look seriously at Holly. "After this one question let him get to know you, it'll make things easier, trust me."

"I am not so easy, brat." Scar growled, giving a slightly sharper tug to the hair he grasped again.

Alphonse merely chuckled.

Holly nodded, breathing a silent breath of relief as unobtrusively as she could. She could see now why the man was one to be feared, that voice he'd spoken at her with, it had held no flicker of warmth. Of caring. And yet… she glanced down at Alphonse who seemed almost entirely at ease sitting by the former murderer, the way Scar treated Alphonse was night and day to that tone of voice. "Okay."

Scar grumbled to himself, but when Alphonse tipped his head back to look at him, he scowled and shoved the brat's head straight again. "No. I don't _feel_ anything missing inside of me."

Alphonse murmured a quiet "thank you," and smiled as he felt Scar's fingers resume messing with his hair. He wasn't sure the man was even conscious of doing it, but he found he didn't mind.

Yes, he definitely preferred this side of Scar.

Holly realized quickly that Scar would not be the free giver of expansive information like Alphonse was, but knew that now was not the time to learn how to dig deeper with the man. It seemed that Alphonse was effective in being able to calm the Ishballan down, but she dared not test her friend's capabilities right now. Instead she'd take his advice.

"Well, if you're going to get to know me… I'm a schoolteacher. I teach the second year children." She began, "and you might have guessed but I have a hobby for dabbling in topics like the one that concerns the both of you. Souls."

"She knows I was once just a soul attached to a suit of armor." Alphonse offered, in hopes of making Scar feel more at ease about talking to her.

Scar didn't make any reaction save to keep absently fiddling with caramel hair.

Holly pursed her lips and steeled herself. It didn't seem like this man was an easy one to crack… how the hell had Alphonse managed to get so close to him? Well, she could only keep trying. "I'm also the one who showed Alphonse how to take care of your injuries to heal you."

She had no idea what she'd just said.

Luckily, Alphonse did, and he whipped around to snag Scar's hand and shove the man into his seat as hard as he could from this vantage point. "Scar, don't even! We got past that and it was _my_ decision to do it, not hers! I didn't have to do anything she told me to, I'm not stupid."

Scar growled, and knowing he could still get up despite Alphonse's best effort to keep him where he was, settled back into the armchair as he watched a rightfully nervous Holly wonder just what it was that had nearly launched him at her. "Sometimes I wonder, Alphonse Elric."

Alphonse glared, shoving Scar's hand back at him. "We're not going there again. I'm not…" he looked down with a hard sigh, "…I don't want to fear you like that again. You terrified me, and I… please just let it go. Just realize that it was her ideas that healed your arms. My being there wasn't everything."

Scar frowned until it was chased away by the undercurrent of sadness in Alphonse's quiet voice, and he let out a small, audible sigh. "You don't need to be frightened of me." He murmured at the bowed head.

Alphonse looked up at Scar through the fringe that had fallen across his face. "I'm not."

Scar shook his head minutely, and with effort tore his gaze from the stubborn brat on the floor to instead look at the still nervous, and somewhat uncertain Holly. "So you're a schoolteacher?"

Alphonse let out a silent breath of relief, and felt the tension leave him, and leave him feeling exhausted as he smiled over at Holly reassuringly. Scar was making an effort on safer ground… and he felt a warmth of happiness to know it was because of him. Scar was making an effort, for him.

Holly caught the smile from Alphonse, and began to relax herself. She wasn't sure quite what had just happened between them, but it was clear that it was a touchy subject for Scar and that Alphonse had probably just saved her ass. She resolved to ask Alphonse later in private, and until then, follow Scar's example and for now, steer clear of anything regarding what had happened in Ishbal.

"Yes, for five years now." She expounded with a smile. "I met Alphonse when he came to give a special presentation on alchemy to all the class years."

"Better you than that crazy brother of yours. At least you can show them with chalk."

Alphonse laughed, and rested his head down on his knees to close his eyes. "I think anyone would have been more concerned about brother blowing the school up. I am not sure that the city was ready to lose several generations in one day just for a presentation from the FullMetal Alchemist. I'm just a safe second."

"You're brilliant yourself, you know." Scar admitted quietly.

Holly hadn't quite caught what Scar had said, but whatever it was, it had made Alphonse smile in true delight for just a moment. "Anyway, after Alphonse was finished with the presentation I had brought my class up to thank him and we just got to talking. Not quite sure how it happened, but suddenly we were friends and hanging out at each other's houses."

Scar's expression pulled wryly to one side, "he has a way of doing that. Suddenly he's in your life and you have no idea how he managed to get there."

"I'm clever like that." Alphonse offered happily.

As it was realized that Alphonse was, in fact, the safest subject for Holly and Scar to become acquainted on, Alphonse sat silently as he left them to it, not protesting that he was something up for discussion. As long as Scar was continuing to talk to Holly, he knew that the percentage that Scar might attempt to throw her into walls was lessening bit by tiny bit.

It was several hours later when Alphonse finally drug himself out of the pleasant half-sleep he'd been in while he listened in on the conversation just to monitor any potential need that he should rein in Scar. And he got up stiffly, noting on the edge of his awareness that Scar had become very alert and watchful of him when he'd risen.

"I need to go get ready for work." He announced, and seeing as how there had been no incidents for over two hours now, "you can stay for a bit longer Holly, or if you want to go home and get some rest…"

Holly looked from him, to Scar who was still eyeing Alphonse closely, then back to her friend. "Actually… if you two promise to come by this weekend, I think I'll go get some sleep." She was tired, but she also knew that she should take this slowly with Scar. Their first meeting was probably not the best one to leave them alone together, just in case.

"I think I can promise that." Alphonse agreed easily.

Holly nodded as she got up, and waving away Alphonse's clear move for the front door, said, "go get ready for work, I can show myself out." And smiling disarmingly at Scar, added, "see you this weekend!"

Before Scar knew it, the woman was suddenly gone and the front door was closing after her. Miffed, he looked over at Alphonse. "Your friend is odd."

Alphonse chuckled lightly and began making his way to his bedroom. "Yes, but she's a good friend to me. You will come with me this weekend, won't you?"

Scar trailed after him, mustering down a groan. "Yes." But before Alphonse could get too far up on the stairs, reached out to stop him by his arm, and as the younger man half-turned to look at him questioningly, "I know you're still afraid of me."

Alphonse's expression became almost regretful, and his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe I always will be to an extent… but until then, let me pretend otherwise. If I don't pay attention to it, it'll go away."

Scar's eyes didn't leave the slightly troubled amber ones, and his grip only firmed on Alphonse's arm. "I've never wanted you to be afraid of me, never you… not really. Maybe when I've been angry, but am I –"

Alphonse held up his free hand, bringing the man to an abrupt silence. "Hearing that, knowing that you don't want me to be scared of you… that's really all I need to know. Anything else is just supposition."

Scar slowly released him, stepping away as he studied the alchemist closely. "I'll treat you better."

"I know… you already are." Alphonse smiled faintly and turned to hurry the rest of the way up the stairs.

In his bedroom, Alphonse rested back against the door with a slow exhale of breath as he steadied himself and fought back another fuzzy wave of exhaustion. He'd been lacking so much sleep as of late, and having just begun to truly sleep again… not being able to sleep at all this past night and then that strange but welcome relaxation he'd felt with Scar earlier, it made him want to crawl into bed and sleep well into the next day.

The most he could do was make it so that he might be able to get home early.

Straightening away from his door he disciplined himself to go to his closet and pull free another suit.

Not long later he was being accompanied out the front door by a silent Scar, and together they left on the barely fifteen minutes walk to the bar. And upon reaching it, Scar slipped off without a word to seat himself out of the way. Alphonse knew, however, that the placement Scar had chosen was ideally located for being able to keep an eye on _him_, yet he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

He already knew that Scar preferred to be able to keep an eye on him.

"Morning, sir. Scar." James greeted the pair as he came out from the kitchen with a bin of limes for the day.

And with that, Alphonse launched himself into the new day as he helped coordinate everyone and their tasks as they came in before going down to the cellar to check on the beer inventory. According to James, after he'd left last night there had been quite a few more orders than normal for the brew, and he wanted to make sure they wouldn't run out before the next shipment came in.

Meanwhile, Scar was upstairs in the bar, watching James cut the limes with a distant expression. "Have you met that Holly woman?"

James barely kept from nicking his finger with the blade in his surprise, and he looked up at the Ishballan who rarely ever initiated conversation and certainly not about something like that. "Holly? Sure. She's come in here a few times, she's the boss's best friend."

"Is she always so prone to asking personal questions?"

James laughed and resumed slicing his limes once more. "Yes. She's a bit uncaring that way, but I have a feeling it's to do with her work. You can't be an effective teacher for children that age, I imagine, if you don't dig to really get to know them. Kids can be more closed off than you, no offense."

Scar grunted.

"So you met her, huh?" James continued idly, "was bound to happen sooner or later. She's harmless though, and a good person, else my boss wouldn't have become her friend."

Scar didn't say anything to it, and James said nothing further, but the Ishballan couldn't help but think that the man wasn't entirely correct. Alphonse didn't always attempt to befriend safe, good people.

It was time to open the doors when Alphonse finally reappeared with his inventory clipboard in hand, and spotting Shaun, who had arrived only half an hour ago, caught his attention. "Go ahead and open everything, I need to take care of some stuff in the office. Might take me a bit of time."

Shaun raised a hand in acknowledgment, and with a beaming smile began to make his way to the front doors. "Don't worry about it, I've got everything in hand."

Alphonse nodded with a smile, and catching Scar's eye briefly, turned to make his way down the hallway that led to his office. Once there, he was only too happy to shut the door and sink into his leather desk chair with a grateful sigh. But not spending much time to indulge, he reached for his phone.

For the coming hours Alphonse placed orders, returned phone calls, made phone calls that needed to be made, and filled out more paperwork than he was sure was legal. After opening his own business, he'd begun to understand what Roy had always complained about regarding paperwork. Although he had yet to wonder whether or not setting it on fire would help.

It was nearing five o'clock when he finally finished. The bar had been open for hours now and he'd been completely undisturbed. Which meant that Shaun was easily holding things down as he knew the man could, and that Scar wasn't causing chaos.

"Maybe things will get better now…" Alphonse murmured as he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes with a tired sigh. He wasn't sure what progress he and Scar had made this morning, but he knew it had been significant. It seemed that Scar's desire not to hurt him truly did exist more powerfully than he'd thought, for Scar to have been so unhappy to discover he _had_ been hurt...

"I hope things will get better…" he breathed slowly, and thought about getting up.

Meanwhile out in the bar, Scar, having not seen hide nor hair of Alphonse, was beginning to get fidgety although he'd never admit to it. It seemed a long time for the brat to be dealing with office "stuff".

He could only stay still for a few minutes longer, before concern drove him from his bar stool and down the hallway to the office Alphonse had once directed him to.

When his knock went unanswered, Scar pushed the door open with a frown, not having at all the hesitation one of his employees might have had about disturbing Alphonse without permission. In the past he'd disturbed Alphonse just because.

What he saw made him shake his head wryly and close the door softly behind him. "Stubborn little idiot." He muttered as he walked over to where Alphonse sat slumped in his chair, fast asleep. "Are you dreaming through my eyes again? Do you see how pathetic this is? You and your job."

Alphonse didn't stir, only continued breathing deeply in sleep with his head at an awkward angle.

Scar stopped beside the sleeping alchemist, considering his options. On one hand, Alphonse really shouldn't be sleeping in his desk chair like that; and on the other, Alphonse really did need the sleep. As far as Scar was able to determine, that only left him with one solution.

"Come on, little idiot." Scar rumbled, carefully turning the chair so as not to disturb its occupant.

Only then did he scoop his arms under the exhausted caramel-blond and in one smooth movement, picked him up and out to cradle Alphonse in his arms. The alchemist still didn't wake. And Scar made sure that Alphonse's head was supported by his arm and not lolling free.

Stepping gently and smoothly so as not to jostle, Scar made his way out of Alphonse's office, and made his way far enough towards the bar so that he could glare into it without anyone really spotting Alphonse, and soon had glared Shaun into hurrying over.

"What's – oh." Shaun blinked as he came around to see what he'd been previously unable to. "Is he okay?"

Scar stepped back a bit protectively of his armful, "he's just sleeping. Is there a back way out of here?"

Shaun looked back up to Scar with a quick nod. "Yeah, of course. This way." And he stepped around the hulking Ishballan.

Scar turned after the man, still being careful not to wake Alphonse. He was fairly certain that the brat wouldn't be pleased he'd done this, but he'd deal with the scowling later. Right now his only concern was getting Alphonse into bed.

Barely a minute later he was slipping out a back door, and he gave a short nod to Shaun who wished them a good night and vanished. And he himself began the walk towards home, finding himself glad that he knew the way. He didn't fancy getting lost out here and causing too many more people to wonder what he'd done to Alphonse.

Getting inside the house was a bit trickier. Alphonse had the keys. But some fancy pickpocketing later, and Scar was letting them inside.

After that it was a simple matter to get Alphonse upstairs and to bed, and Scar pulled the covers up over the still out of it blond after removing only as much clothing as he dared. He might be on thin ice tomorrow morning as it was, he'd rather not get accused of exploring that prostitution thing he'd alluded to in Ishbal.

"Sleep well, stubborn brat." Scar murmured as he let himself out of the bedroom and went in search of dinner on his own.


	16. Chapter 16

GWings: So true, I don't think that Scar has had many people smile at him before. It's a good thing that Al is so good at sneaking into his life and clinging there, smiles will do Scar a world of good.

ZemyxDexion: Scar's points of view amuse me. I love being able to write a gruff character sometimes, one who's just fighting not to be sucked in by Al's adorable little self.

Anemone: Oh yes, Al is badass. He may seem fragile and fluffy, but he has got balls of steel and a mean hand at alchemy when pushed to it. And Ed's little journey to see Al and Scar shall be much fun. I've already got most of it planned out and written. Bless the amusement of Scar and Ed butting heads but trying to behave for Al's sake.

Erisah Mae: Well, all I can say is that if I were to start of a romance story with romance, it would be entirely out of character for me. And out of character for the characters. Sometimes things have to get messy before they can get better, as has been the fact of their previous relationship. Scar was trying to kill Al before he was trying to help him.

ZeroMoon: Thanks, sometimes I need all the luck I can get with my work schedule XD.

Toki Mirage: hahaha oh don't make me laugh like that. You'll make me scare my critters. But you wouldn't be the only one thinking about the future for them in that way... and I'm certain I don't include myself in that number. I'm certain.

Ice Dragon3: Thank you. These two are so good to work with in that way. They've both got such deep personality that frankly can clash, but for whatever reason they're able to work past it. And Scar having to share something as intimate as his soul certainly can't be bad for the growly man XD.

The Second Hand of Time: Yes, that would be so nice, for all of us. Me included. We'll get there though, Roy has, after all, just made a critical discovery.

* * *

I had all these plans to do something incredibly lame for April Fools... and then nothing. Oh well, there's always next year.

I'm moving again... yay! I move April 24th... day before my birthday, so happy birthday to me. I'll get to open so many boxes... of things that are already mine. But hey, it's the act of ripping boxes open that is truly the birthday joy. Honestly I'll just be glad to save 300 on my rent each month. This place is sucking my paychecks out of me like a leech. That will be the true birthday gift, saving 300 a month... and living next to an Asian market.

Also applied for a promotion at work. We'll see how that goes. I wouldn't say no to an extra quarter - eye roll - but if I don't get it then I'll still be happy. Goodness knows I have enough to do anyway what with taking on almost all the orphaned sections of the store.

And as I was watching anime last Saturday I came to the conclusion that I'll probably never get over what they did with Scar's animation in Brotherhood. Oh well, at least Number 23 is in Brotherhood... briefly... that must remain my one balm against the Scar animation injustice.

Anyway, enough of my babbling... I hope you enjoy the chapter! And ate lots of rabbit-shaped chocolates yesterday.

* * *

Chapter Sixteen

Alphonse gradually began to wake up, stirring with small movements in the bed until his awareness signaled to him that something was off. After so many years spent on a dangerous road, even as a suit of armor, he'd learned to recognize these things. But the realization of where he was as he opened his eyes only confused him.

"How did I…" he murmured in confusion as he slowly pushed away the fleecy white blanket and sat up in his own bed. The last thing he remembered was being at work last night, thinking that he really should get up and leave his office. But a look towards the windows showed it was well into dawn.

Suddenly it dawned on him, and Alphonse's eyes widened as he looked towards his bedroom door. He must have fallen asleep at work, and the only one who'd have brought him back home would be Scar. There was no way that the Ishballan would have allowed anyone else to touch him. "Why do I feel a lecture coming on?" He half-grumbled to himself as he slipped free of the warm haven of his bed.

Grabbing a change of clothes, as he was still in the majority of his suit from the previous night, he smacked his lips together with a grimace and headed for the toothpaste first upon entering his bathroom. The shower could wait. Having missed a brushing, his mouth felt like something had died a ripe death in it.

After a verging on unbearably hot shower, Alphonse pulled on his jeans and black sweater before half-wrapping his hair in a towel to work on drying it as he made his way out of his bedroom. He was nearly to the stairs, planning on phoning Shaun and asking how things had gone last night, when he paused.

If he wasn't mistaken… and the enthusiastic rumble his stomach made reassured him, there was food cooking in the kitchen. Bacon, his stomach helpfully growled in happiness. And if he wasn't mistaken… he smelled potatoes frying too.

Curiously, and with a mouth that was beginning to water as he realized just how long it had been since he'd eaten, Alphonse padded down the staircase. He hadn't had Scar's cooking since Ishbal, and the man wasn't half bad at it.

Scar was at the stove when Alphonse found him, poking at sizzling potatoes in a skillet as he frowned at it with his red eyes, as if the potatoes would cook faster if they feared him. Alphonse grinned at the thought, stifling a small laugh before walking over to him.

Scar flicked a quick look to his side when Alphonse came to lean up against the counter casually, those amber eyes watching him with an innocent light. "I see you decided to wake up."

Alphonse smiled as he reached for the salt shaker, giving it a quick dump over the potatoes before Scar could protest.

"Alphonse!"

"I like salt!" Alphonse grinned, and easily ducked the swat Scar made at him with the spoon.

Scar scowled at the amber-eyed demon as he gave the potatoes a vigorous stirring. "Your insides are going to shrivel up, eating that much salt."

"No such thing." Alphonse beamed at him cheerfully, and made an exaggeratedly slow reach for the salt shaker again.

"Alphonse…" Scar growled in warning, leering out the corner of his eye at the terror who squeaked playfully and took his hand back. "Make yourself useful and grab the plates or something."

Alphonse's grin didn't waver, and he bounced cheerfully over to the dinnerware cabinet. "Thank you, by the way, for getting me home last night. I hope I wasn't too much trouble."

"You were." Scar informed him blandly. "Why do you have to keep your keys in such a hard to reach pocket?"

Alphonse chuckled lightly as he pulled free two plates. "To annoy you."

"You annoy me by not taking care of yourself."

"Oh, really? Touché."

"Shut up." Scar growled, ignoring the smirk he could feel. "I'm now almost entirely healed. I expect you to take care of yourself now, not me."

Alphonse carried the plates over to the table, setting them down with light clinks before turning to focus a smile on the man. He'd expected Scar to say nothing less. Still smiling, almost fondly, he walked back over to him, and after a moment of hesitation, reached out to lay his hand on the man's arm as he looked up into the red eyes that were turned on him. "Still… thank you."

Scar was silent and unmoving for several seconds, before he relented with a heave of breath. "You're welcome." And then he fairly erupted with seriousness. "But if you ever do that again I'll wake you up and I won't be nice about it."

Alphonse chuckled and withdrew his hand. "Of course you won't be."

Eventually the breakfast was served, and for Alphonse's part, he ate ravenously. Something he didn't realize was amusing Scar, such was his focus on shoveling as much food as possible into his stomach. After moving on to his third helping, though, he began to slow, and once he'd finished the last of it sat back at last in satisfaction.

"Want to tell me when your brother started inhabiting your body as well?" Scar asked, deadpan, and crunched down on another bit of his remaining bacon strip that he'd managed to salvage from Alphonse's glutton.

Alphonse was busy licking his fingers with satisfaction, but at the question popped his index finger free with a lazy, satisfied smile. "You should have seen me when I was first able to eat food again. This," he waved at the table that was empty even of crumbs, "is nothing."

"Between you and your brother, it's amazing you've not starved the country yet."

"Tried that already. Hasn't worked so far." Alphonse smirked and pushed his chair back so that he could get up. "I'm going into work a bit later than usual today, so if there's anything you want or need to do, now's the time to do it."

Scar stayed seated, looking away with a scowl. "I don't know what you expect me to do. Even if I were to decide what honest ambition I'm going to pursue, am I even free to do so yet?"

Alphonse studied the man carefully, though he did not sit back down. "If you let this stop you from planning what you're going to do next, you're not the man I used to know. Soon the Military will all be at ease again, within the week at the latest, and you'll have been beaten out of the starting gate because you thought those bars would be in front of you forever, and for once, you were obeying them."

Scar seemed to prickle at the accusations, but did not deny them as he instead glared at Alphonse, his words clipped and hard such was his apprehension in saying them. "I didn't want to cause you trouble."

Alphonse blinked in surprise, before his expression softened. "Cause me a bit of trouble, at least. Else I'm going to start worrying about you, it seems."

Scar might have rolled his eyes. As if this brat didn't get into enough trouble all on his own. How many times now had he rescued this terror from the grips of trouble? It was far too many to be normal.

"Tell me something, Scar… who were you before the war?"

"No one who still exists." Scar ground out, almost acerbically, before fixing Alphonse with a hard, red-eyed stare. "Once, I was kind and never believed I could kill, despite my training. That person is gone." And he added with a harsh laugh. "Clearly."

"Were you just a boy?" Alphonse asked, undeterred, and almost as if he hadn't heard Scar at all. "I was just a boy when I lost my body. But I still remember who I was, even though I'll never be that innocent child again. I can't allow myself to forget that person."

Scar felt the rage tightening his chest, and he struggled against it, to not let it out. Not at Alphonse. Alphonse was not the one who took his family, his former life from him. Alphonse… in a way… had saved him. They'd saved each other, and he'd swore to himself that's all he'd do. He'd not hurt Alphonse Elric again, especially not in misdirected rage. "Even before the war, I knew little else of life."

Alphonse didn't look away from him, didn't sit, but carefully began picking up the dirtied dishes as he watched the Ishballan. "You were always fighting?"

"It's all I know." Scar admitted rather tensely, in a way, looking back at it now, he realize it must make him sound a horrible person. And not the sort he already knew himself to be. "My… parents –" he managed to get out, before halting to a stop as he fought against the screaming urge inside him that wanted him to stop.

Alphonse set the dishes down onto the counter with a loud clatter, whirling around to look at the man in surprise. He'd never heard Scar mention his parents. _Never_. It was always that older brother, or master. And he knew it shouldn't surprise him that Scar had parents… but it did. "Scar?" He prompted gently, able to see the conflict in the man at the table.

Really, it made sense. Scar had never been one to open up about his past. It had taken enough time as it was all those years ago to learn why Scar had turned murderer. And that was barely a snippet from the man's life, if Alphonse thought about it.

Scar's hand clenched into a fist as he forced himself to speak. "It was only my brother and I. My brother chose the life of a scholar, a doctor… my parents had always insisted that one of us must become a warrior, to do the family honor. With my older brother already a doctor, I grew up knowing what I'd become. I never allowed myself to think otherwise. I studied under my master and became one of the warrior monks of Ishbal."

Alphonse felt his head tilt slightly, and he slowly walked back over to the man. Even though he was afraid the movement would scare Scar off, or scare him from the spell that seemed to come over him and result in this storytelling. He knew, with all certainty, that Scar had never spoken of this with anyone before. "You were a monk?" He asked, a certain amount of valid amazement in his voice.

"I was not a good monk." Scar corrected with a bitter laugh. "So you see, Alphonse Elric, I am not some tortured soul who was forced to become a man too early. Fighting is all I know, it's all I know how to do, and I am in exile from the country who trained me. And Ishbala has no need for a monk who has committed the sin of alchemy."

Alphonse considered the man a moment, features carefully masked, before he smiled, reaching down to take one of the man's massive tight fists in his own smaller hand. "Come with me."

"_Alphonse_..." Scar said it like a warning.

Alphonse didn't back down, nor did he release Scar's hand as he looked adamantly down at him. "The person you were does still exist." And here he grinned a bit teasingly, "maybe even the monk."

Scar gave him a deadpan stare.

Alphonse merely smirked at him, before sobering once more. "Sure, you started fighting for different reasons, and turned into a serial killer, but I'm not afraid of you. And you're not like that anymore. You say you only know how to fight? Perfect. The world needs people like you... and honestly, you're one of the best fighters I know. So come with me and _trust me_, like I've always trusted you."

"You _are_ afraid of me," Scar corrected, rapidly shifting the hand Alphonse held in order to seize Alphonse's hand in turn and pull the alchemist a stumbling step closer, "and you never trusted me when we first met."

"But –"

"_But_," Scar interrupted with a hard gaze, "I told you yesterday that I'd treat you better. Somewhere in the past, in that crazy head of yours, you started to trust me. This time, I'll make sure I'm worthy of it." And Scar paused a moment, looking sourly conflicted before he managed to finish. "So I'll trust you… even though you're still insane."

Alphonse's smile grew wide at that, and he laughed softly a moment before lightly squeezing the hand that gripped his. "Thank you."

Scar tried not to scowl too hard at Alphonse's easily-won joy, and as the alchemist took his hand away in order to rush upstairs on whatever sudden mission he felt he'd been given, Scar turned to stare woodenly at the wall. He didn't know what had come over him, telling Alphonse any of that… but he found he didn't regret it. Nor, strangely, did he worry that Alphonse would tell anyone else.

At last he shoved away from the table. He knew Alphonse well, and knew that when the tyrant got his teeth into something, he ran with it.

So he wasn't surprised when barely ten minutes later he had been dragged from the house by the young alchemist. He'd barely had time to get his boots on such had been Alphonse's enthusiasm. Yet he followed along willingly as the other led the way with a spring in his step.

"Alphonse…" Scar finally broached the silence as they made their way along sidewalks rarely inhabited, and if so, by individuals walking the family dog.

Alphonse had stuffed his hands in the pockets of his denims, and he tossed a bright smile up towards the man. "Mmm?"

"Did you dream through my eyes last night?" Scar asked, unable to keep from helping his curiosity any longer. Especially after some of the remarks he'd made to the alchemist while he'd been asleep.

Alphonse chuckled lightly, and turned his full attention on the man now, rather relying on his own sense of direction and the fact that he had Scar with him to prevent him from running into anything. "What did you do to me?" He asked with not exactly unfounded suspicion and a hint of playful amusement in his tone.

Scar scowled over at him, "next time I _will_ be doing something to you. I've considered a bucket of ice water over your head."

Alphonse grinned brightly at the proposed threat, not alarmed in the least. "I'm sure you have." He agreed cheerfully enough before adding a bit more seriously, "I really believe there's a proximity limit on it, at the very least. If you ever really want me to dream like that again, you'll have to go a bit farther from me and most likely be injured. Such seems to be the trend. I just never thought you'd want to experiment with it."

"I don't." Scar agreed with swift firmness, abhorrent at the very thought of allowing himself to be so violated again on his own terms.

Alphonse looked away from him at last, sidling closer to the man as they came up on another pedestrian. "You know… it very nearly might have drove me insane, but now that I know the purpose of what seems to be happening with us, I'm glad of it."

"Only proves you're as insane as I've concluded."

"You're probably right about that." Alphonse laughed softly. "But if I were any other way, wouldn't that worry you? And honestly… it's probably good that I'm insane. No one else can put up with you like I can."

Scar actually couldn't argue with _that_. Perhaps this brat's older brother might have been able to stand up to him sufficiently… but time and time again he knew with certainty that he'd have tried to remove Edward Elric limb from limb. But with Alphonse? There was something about Alphonse that stayed his hand and his temper, some unfathomable thing.

"I'll let you know if I dream anything more while you're awake." Alphonse continued, looking over only briefly at the Ishballan who, at his words, had finally seemed to come out of whatever deep thoughts he'd fallen into.

Scar accepted the statement as it was, knowing he could only trust Alphonse to it. There was no way that _he_ had any control over it. Or if he did, it was beyond his knowledge to understand. Yet something else was still weighing on his mind, and after several moments of acute indecision, he finally spoke. "It would worry me if you weren't acting yourself."

Alphonse blinked in surprise, not having expected Scar to have paid any attention to his earlier, almost invisible question.

"And after my brother died, I never believed I'd worry about anyone else." Scar admitted with grudging, but unable to help himself. Chancing a quick glance at the caramel-blond, he tried not to feel pleased as he caught sight of the purely happy smile on Alphonse's face, and forced a scowl for good measure. As if potentially worrying about Alphonse was some bothersome task.

"I won't tell anyone." Alphonse smiled with poorly concealed happiness.

Scar didn't grace the claim with a response, merely turned his attention back to the task at hand. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Look at this as an exercise in trusting me." Alphonse replied unhelpfully.

Scar had little choice but to accept that he wouldn't be getting any answers out of the brat. He knew Alphonse well enough to know that there was a stubborn streak the size of the Great Desert inside that small body. The most he could do was resign himself to waiting.

Alphonse allowed himself a small smile as Scar fell silent and still remained walking next to him willingly. Admittedly, he'd been having a hard time thinking of what Scar could possibly do with his life that would keep him from being suspicious from those less progressive in the Military, not to mention it being something where the chances of Scar ever resuming his old violence were almost nonexistent. But after this morning's revelations he suddenly knew what he had to do.

What Scar had to do.

He knew the perfect thing for the man to do with his life. Something where he could still be himself. Something where he wouldn't be tempted to hurt anyone. And for the sake of his continued ability to sleep, something that wouldn't put Scar at easy risk for injury. Yet just as certainly as he knew all of this, he knew that Scar wouldn't accept it without some form of resistance.

A resistance Alphonse was more than prepared for.

It wasn't much longer at all before Alphonse was stopping and looking up at a modest but declining building with a pleased expression and his hands jauntily on his hips. "We're here!" He announced cheerfully.

Scar eyed the building closely. It was, quite frankly, in need of some work. Especially as far as the roof and wooden outside walls went, but still, it was in far greater condition than his former home had been. It was long, squat, with many dingy windows, overgrown shrubbery and leaning trees surrounded it. Yet he recognized overall what this place, with its great lintel across the door deeply carved in symbols was supposed to be. "A dojo? Isn't this the exact opposite of keeping me from potentially hurting someone?"

Alphonse chuckled a bit and the sharp upward look he gave Scar tossed his long fringe out of the way so his amber eyes gleamed up at the man. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Come on." And grabbing the man around the nearest bicep, tugged.

Scar moved forward obligingly, knowing that no matter how hard Alphonse were to tug at him, the brat would never be able to move him on his own power. Still, he wasn't at all sure about this, and gave the excited alchemist a dark look, but said nothing. Alphonse had asked him for trust, he would give it for now.

"Welcome to the East City Center Dojo!" Alphonse declared gaily, and threw open the doors with a flourish.

Scar stepped into a dimly lit room and looked around. It was as large on the inside as the outside had led him to believe, with the majority of the room being a planked training floor that barely gleamed under a heavy coating of dust. Along one of the walls tiered benches were placed, and they hadn't escaped a liberal coating of dust either. Along the wall nearest the door were lines of metal lockers bracketed to the wall itself, and he was surprised to see that they seemed undamaged, although still quite dusty.

"It hasn't been used since sometime last year." Alphonse rubbed at the back of his neck as he looked around. "The former master of it moved away, and they couldn't find anyone willing to keep things going."

"I can tell." Scar muttered as he continued to look around. "I at least expected squatters, with it not being locked."

Alphonse smiled, "it's checked on from time to time. But," he paused and looked towards the man beside him, "it wouldn't have to be if you took it on and became the new master here."

Scar's head jerked towards Alphonse so fast his vision momentarily blurred, "I believe you have no comprehension of what you're thinking." He decided sternly.

Alphonse shrugged, unbothered by the initial balking and wandered off further into the dojo, his footsteps raising small puffs of dust. "You're a warrior monk of Ishbal. You say you only know fighting? Then who better to teach the children that used to come here, who would come here again if they had a Master once more." And he whirled where he was to face Scar again, staring at him with unwavering certainty across the dojo floor. "I've seen you with children, you're good with them."

"You're delusional if you believe a bunch of proper Amestrian parents would allow the murderer who terrorized their country years ago to teach their children." Scar shot back without hesitation. His past and the havoc it had caused was not something that eluded him.

Alphonse grinned easily, "I believe you underestimate sensationalism among these _proper_ Amestrian parents. Any _proper_ parent would want to keep their children away from my brother, what with his penchant for leveling cities when his temper gets the better of him, yet they still flock."

"It's different with your brother, even you."

"It isn't." Alphonse arrested quite quickly, and looking faintly displeased at the notion. "You think that there were times the country wasn't ready to turn its back on us? You think there weren't times we were arrested and thrown into prison?" He looked away towards the dingy windows as his lips thinned in a visible effort to put it behind him again. "The thing is, Scar, is that we never let _proper_ Amestrians or the Military keep us on a leash. You never did either… so don't start waffling on me now."

Scar felt Alphonse's words press on him in a vaguely uncomfortable way, and he too looked away and around the dojo once again. "And you're not concerned I'd hurt anyone?"

Alphonse smiled then, a hint of amusement in his amber eyes. "Scar, your dignity would never allow you to harm a child. And I never took you for a child-killer anyway, even when your chosen profession was skulking in the shadows and reforming brain matter."

"Sensationalism?" Scar finally repeated, sounding beleaguered.

"It's a powerful force." Alphonse said lightly, and began to make his way back over to the Ishballan. "And I highly doubt a bunch of kids could injure you and cause me to lose sleep over you." And then he chuckled, giving Scar a wicked look, "in the past many men would have loved to know I lost sleep over them… I don't think they could ever hope to manage to duplicate the finesse you manage it with."

"What in Ishbala's name are you talking about now?" Scar demanded, annoyed.

Alphonse merely laughed and shook his head. "Not important." He brushed it off with a wave of his hand. "Now then," his hand swept out to indicate the dojo they stood in, "do you want it?"

Scar took his eyes off the young alchemist before him, looking around at the dojo that clearly needed some work. And that was just the inside. But he wouldn't have felt right, he supposed, if it were any different. He wouldn't have felt right if everything, whole and immaculate, had been offered to him. And Alphonse was offering it.

Alphonse was offering him the life he might have known back in Ishbal. If war had not come. If his older brother had not sacrificed himself to save his life. If he'd gone a different path than that of revenge. If he hadn't turned from Ishbala in vengeful necessity and lost what right he'd once had to claim himself a monk of her land. But Alphonse was here… in all his frustrating Amestrian ideologies, offering him back his life. The life he should have had, had everything been different.

"Scar?" Alphonse pressed gently, head tilting somewhat as he looked up at the deeply in thought man. "You're almost scary, how good you are at this martial arts stuff. With it being all you've ever known, I know why now… I wish I could do better for you than this..."

Scar finally looked back down to those searching amber eyes, and fought back a scowl at the concerned hope he saw shining in them, and finally he laid a hand on the brat's head and swept the hair the wrong way to cause Alphonse to duck him. "I'm _almost_ scary?" He demanded, only a slight flicker of humor in his tone.

Alphonse straightened with a grin, fingering his hair straight again. "Don't fish for compliments, it doesn't suit you."

That startled a short-lived laugh out of Scar, and he shook his head. "Did you know… if I'd remained a well-behaved warrior monk, one day I may have set up in a town with my own dojo?"

Alphonse smiled up at him smugly, tugging lightly on one of his front locks of hair. "No… but it's the closest legal outlet for someone like you, so it doesn't surprise me. But do you want it? The life you might have had?"

"No." Scar answered firmly, before continuing as he saw Alphonse's face start to fall. "As insane as this may sound… my life before the war was monotonous. I would have been chained into running a monotonous dojo. I'd rather run a dojo where my life is continuously filled with you trying my patience."

"Isn't that monotonous in a way, Scar?" Alphonse asked cheekily, thrilled that Scar seemed to be accepting.

Scar lost the battle not to scowl. "It's _Master_ Scar from now on, brat."

Alphonse laughed outright, "I'll let the schools in the area know that they can start sending children here again after classes." Then added slyly, "_Scar._"

Scar made a half-hearted attempt to lunge for the impertinent terror, and expectedly missed him by a staggering distance. But the effort raised a cloud of dust that threatened to swamp them both, so with the matter settled, and Scar willing to take on the duty of being the new dojo master, they didn't stay for much longer.

"I'm glad you took the job, you know." Alphonse said once his lungs had cleared of dust and they'd made it to the next corner on the sidewalk.

Scar frowned thoughtfully, and glanced sidelong towards the relaxed young man beside him. "You're still an alchemist through and through. I saved your life, you're giving me mine back. I'm not waiting any longer, the Military will just have to deal with it."

Alphonse ducked his head with a pleased smile, and reached out to lightly brush his hand against Scar's arm. "Now I won't have to worry. It'll be good to have you back again like I used to know… just without the killing."

Scar glared mildly over at the brat, and pulled him into a headlock which caused Alphonse to yelp through a bit of a laugh. "Might yet kill you, little one."

Alphonse chuckled and wormed his way out of Scar's grip, knowing the man hadn't truly been trying to restrain him. "Not after all that talk about treating me better. Besides, you'd miss me."

Scar didn't reply save for a scowl that caused Alphonse to snicker some more, but he couldn't help realizing that Alphonse was probably correct. His family and home were gone, and Alphonse was the only constant remaining in his life… aside from that maddening older brother of his, and Scar wouldn't have batted an eye at wiping out Edward, except for the fact he knew it would make Alphonse hate him. And he couldn't have that. He couldn't lose the only good thing in his life that he had remaining.


End file.
